Surface. - Poetry Novel

help

Sitting in a chair surrounded by people
Blinding lights and stories of past days
These are your friends and family people you know
Yet feeling like a stranger trapped in the body of another
A soul invading anothers home
Calling my name, yet it sounds foreign
Oh , the thick feeling that creeps up inside when you realize...'it isn't me they are calling'
So I slip into darkness as if punished
Wishing I could disappear

I try
Like a farmer looking for water in a dessert
I seek validation from these people I've been looking at
Hoping you'd stare at me when you're in need, even if I know that what I have isn't guaranteed to succeed
I would offer you golden gauntlets in a one bed hut even though I know sometimes the drink is bitter and you would spew it right out.
Trying to ensure your survival in this miserable land
but I've realized ...
That no matter the lengths that i go for you, that I can't help.

I can dig through the dirt till my fingers bleed
I can give you that sip of water that you've been dying for ...that you need
I can hold your hand as you slip into quicksand, dragging me in
But I can't help
and that means that you'll always need to call someone else to help fix what I couldn't
Because what I offer would never be enough
Even though I tried to
Help.