I'll talk to her, I don't like her though.
She's a freak, and that is so.
I know I want to be a therapist, to help,
This girl needs a professional, I'm not stealth.
I can function feeling and hearing their screams,
For help, for someone to listen, not in dreams,
She needs me, but it's going to be hard,
She's suicidal, she's sort of like snow stalling my car.
She wont talk to me, it's hard to get her to open,
She's nice, sometimes, but lost and broken,
And I feel worse for not believing,
That I could help her, and now she's leaving.
I'll try to stop her, but it probably won't work,
I've learned these skills to connect, but I can still be a jerk,
I want to help her, no lie,
But it's hard,
When she's dying inside.
The one day she missed our appointment, I knew,
That everything, anything, she was put through,
Made her want to die, and cry,
I tried,
But I couldn't,
Connect empathy to suicide. |
