Maybe I am angry because I am jealous.
Because he came to me
seeking for help and advices,
something I never did and could never do.
For years I could never figure out
why exactly.
Maybe the lack of true friends and
the incapability to trust people;
I was never wrong, but the thing is,
I cannot seek help mostly because I don't deserve it.
Because I am sinking deeper and deeper
in an endless and dark ocean:
I am not worthy of being rescued.
It makes me angrier hating myself so much
and always looking up for destruction.
I feel small and impotent, and at this point,
I can do nothing but stare blankly
at the darkness of the ocean
during an endless fall.
I am heavy and the fear has settled in me
like a second skin.
