to ask for help.

i never knew how to ask for help.
the words blades slicing my throat.
taste of metal drowning my mouth.
my hand clenches in a fist.
questioning how to extend in need.
never had a talent in saying “i need you, i love you.”
a language foreign to this tongue of mine.
instead i write.
between the lines. between other words.
beneath paintings. beneath my skin.
forgive me then.
when i fail to respond to your touch of comfort.
when i blanket an open wound with “i’m fine.”
i do not know how to ask for help.
between veins and heartbeats.
inside of me is the only home my words will ever know.