A Cry For Help

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What cruel joke was this,

To make me who I am?

Why would one need to care both so little,

And also care way too much?

I care too little about myself,

But so much on what others think, or may say.

Same thing, yesterday, tomorrow,

And same thing today.

I'm filled with depression, and anxiety,

It's a deep ocean, an endless sea.

I'm at the bottom without air,

I might be able to swim up,

But I honestly don't care.

If you wish to pull me up,

You must make sure,

You don't make me want to jump back in.