I want to reach out my hand.
I want to reach you when no one else can.
I want to reach out my hand and pull you from that place.
I need to reach you before I’m too late.
I’m coming from perspective of a friend who’s been there.
You don’t need this to take you over.
You’re not alone.
I want to reach you.
I want to reach you before it’s too late for you to be great again.
I’ve watched my mom go,
trapped behind locked doors and come back losing herself again and again.
I needed a code to greet her, extremities long enough to reach her.
I’ve felt it was all my fault before.
I couldn’t save her, though I tried.
You’re not alone.
I was there too, watching my father slip off to sleep after a long night of working then drinking.
Mom was in the hospital and I had to be brave again.
I felt so alone going home and playing pretend.
This wasn’t my life.
I almost believed my stories.
My mind had me convinced.
I’ve gotten lost on predictable paths trying to meet the lost souls, who let me lose more of me gladly.
To you, you who are there.
I see the familiarity, the disparity in your eyes.
I see the dark spots you hide behind bright blue, green, brown, black eyes.
Everything feels like a game to you.
You feel like you’re being played.
I’ve felt that before too.
I’ve felt the empty glances and business person approach to “helping.”
I’ve leapt over edges and driven high speed, hoping to crash, self-destructing and rotting while living before someone reached me like I’m trying to reach you.
I want to reach you, whoever you are.
You deserve to know that you deserve to be and are loved.
Dawning Creations 
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