Drawing closed, my outstretched arms.
I hold me when no one would.
I’ve given up on my fairytales
but I’m doing it for my own good.
I’m a mess, but true love would love me.
I’m in pain, and true friends would know.
I’m not blaming them, but I’m taking care of me more
Because the world doesn’t care for small woes.
So as the world seems to grow around me
And I recede in myself
I may just be gaining some distance
And learning that I don’t need help.