I need help.
I know that.
But the spill of crimson water,
the creeping black fog,
the ignorance is tempting.
How I wish it could veil my eyes.
To kiss the white sheets,
to wear the necklace of yarn,
could release me from the burden.
Or I could,
eat pearls,
too many pearls,
and let myself drift away.
I need help,
but I don't want it.
