I'm so sorry,
For being so selfish;
for always thinking about my benefit,
and my disease.
But please, SOS.
Help me heal,
Help me grow,
help me amend my sins.
I wasn't born a human compass,
So inspire me to find the path home,
because now I'm running around,
Fighting my demons with only sticks and stones.
because I've missed the warning signs.
You've got no motives and no remorse
to say what no one else will mutter,
not even to themselves.
It's in no way a demand,
but a ritual call for help.