If I may,
Allow me to sew up your wounds.
Roll up your sleeves and reveal to me the outcome of emotional catastrophe.
Self inflicted punishment won't wipe the slate clean.
You can't fix yourself by severing your woes away.
Do not succumb to the pressures of this broken world.
Honestly, we're all quite a mess.
You see yourself as the product of corrupt nature,
Something that could never amount to anything great.
You look for answers in places you shouldn't lurk In a frantic search for a temporary remedy.
How blinded you've become, all potential you hold is far from sight.
If only you saw what I do now.
Don't turn away when I hold out my hand.
Put down your razor sharp addiction
Let scars heal.
Find relief in the future ahead
The path is rough
Though one is allowed to stumble,
And Friend if you can
Fall into me.
---Written for W.H.