I Can’t Help You

I can’t help that I hate you and everything that you do.
I can’t help that you are needy and it’s paired with complacency.
I can’t help but obsess over the things you never give a shit about.
I tried to help you succeed and I tried to provide for your needs.
I was understanding and patient and accepted your complacence,
Because I was once was in the same place,
Struggling to find a purpose and wishing someone would help me with this.
But I can’t help that I found the strength and showed to go to any length,
To save myself from me and see what I could possibly be.
I can’t help that you don’t hold the same determination,
To save yourself from this ten year long lamentation.
I can’t help that you don’t see that it is worth the struggle,
And I can’t help you find your rebuttal.
You have to do this on your own,
And I can’t help you find your sense of home.
Because your truth is nothing I can see,
And my hard work will not set you free.
You have to do this on your own,
Because I am tired of being the one who listens to your moans.
Your complaints have become too much,
And I am beginning to lose the sense of love,
That was the driving factor behind my support,
And the reason I first agreed to be your cohort,
For empathy and undeserved sympathy,
Going to lengths to provide for we.
But I can help you no longer,
Because I am proving to not be stronger,
Than this hate that is beginning to resonate,
For the human you have proven to be,
And the lack of thankfulness you have towards me.
You ruined my finances while I continued to give you second chances,
And accepted my shelter while doing nothing to help more,
Because you were always too lazy to see,
That this really isn’t my responsibility.
I can’t help you with a cure to depression,
And I can’t give you more than I have already given.
I can’t help you find a new girlfriend,
And I can’t understand why you have no pride left to defend.
I can’t help you with this struggle any longer,
Because you are bringing me down even farther,
Than I once was when I needed your help,
And I can’t help that this is the truth being felt.
But you can help change this reality,
And you can prove that you are made of more than fallacy,
If you just actually gave a fuck,
And refused to continue blaming this on bad luck.
So now it’s up to you,
I can help you no longer,
Because this is not serving me,
And the person that I worked so hard to be.

I Can’t Continue Doing This Alone

Maybe I need a dog.
Maybe I need a boyfriend.
Maybe I need a friend who will just hold my hand.

Because I have been losing my shit,
And I have become complacent about it,
To the point where I cannot begin to explain it.

I wake up every day and do what I have to do to get by,
Serving the single purpose of avoiding the chance to die,
And having this overwhelming feeling to breakdown and cry.

Not because I think my life is a waste,
Since I would be dead already if that were the case,
But because I am frustrated with this place.

I am frustrated that I can’t seem to stop smoking,
And I hate that a hobby of mine is toking,
That is pushed to the point where I have become broken.

I can’t seem to function without the release,
I find in the secrets that I consistently keep,
Hiding the fact that I am struggling and preventing me from taking a leap.

Because I have faith in my abilities,
And I have confidence in my reality,
That I have the power to change everything about me.

But the real question is —
Do I want to change this?
Or am I satisfied with my shit?

Is this life something to complain about?
Or something that motivates me to shout out?
And claim everything to which I am devote?

Because this struggle has made me who I am,
And I have never allowed anyone to hold my hand,
Since growth is something only I can accomplish in the end.

Which leaves me to question,
The complaints that I purge with this pen,
And the manner in which I approach this life again.

Do I need someone to hold my hand?
Or can I do this independently that way I always have?
And why do I feel shame in admitting that I can?

Why do I feel pressure to have a life that is “complete”?
And why can I not deny this secret that I keep?
How can I suppress this thought that does not allow me to sleep?

That I am missing a piece of this life,
And that that piece could lessen my strife,
If I only allowed myself to be open to my own advice.

If only I stop fighting this change,
And stop feeling like I am deranged,
In order to accept that I am struggling through this pain.

And the one thing that might help,
Would be if I removed myself from the isolation shelf,
And accept that I desperately want someone other than me to support myself.

What I Would Say If I Could

You sit and bitch about what life has handed you,
But you do nothing about it.
You disclaim that you are suicidal,
But you see no reason to live life at the moment.
You say that you want more out of this life,
But you do nothing to go get it.
You whine, complain and put those around you down in a pursuit to justify where you stand.
You seek sympathy when I have none left to give.
Because you made choices that got you to where you are today.
And you had plenty of time to fix what you saw as broken.
You had support from me and an example of what change can truly be,
Yet you still refused to work for it,
And you never gave me credit for the work I did.
You see that my life has changed and you cannot deny that I have changed,
Yet you are still in the same place that I left you three years ago,
Suffering and complaining and unintentionally insulting all the hard work I put into life.
You make off handed comments that put me down and make me feel guilty for initiating change.
You demean my work experience and status that I worked so many years to obtain.
You claim woe-is-me when life doesn’t work out the way you had hoped,
But never admit that it might be you who is the cause of your woes.
You have been handed so much in life,
Yet you still claim to be robbed of so much more,
While here I am working to clean up after myself,
And am taken for granted when I clean up after you as well.
I have handed you everything for the past few years and you have handed nothing back,
I found a place to live,
I worked jobs I hated to pay our bills,
And I sacrificed a life I could have built to build one that supported you.
You never asked me to,
But with a true friend you should never have to.
I have been that true friend,
And you have been the only friend who takes me for granted.
So it’s time for you to finally figure it out.
I will listen and I will provide support,
But the time has come for you to finally figure your shit out.
I cannot do it for you,
And I won’t even attempt to,
Because I can no longer take care of you,
And you should no longer want me to.
You should want to pick yourself up and carry on,
And you should crave this inevitable change.
You are 29 and it is time,
To finally take charge of the life you call your own.
You should finally own up to what you want,
And you should finally put your head down and work for what that is,
You should accept no excuse for delay,
And you should be your own biggest motivator.
I cannot play that role for you,
And I cannot stress myself out with your lack of progress for much longer.
It is time for you to take charge.
I will listen and I will provide sympathy,
Because at the root of that is empathy,
And I have walked where you are walking,
And I have struggled through what you are facing,
And I am the one person who can truly feel the pain you feel.
But you have never listened to me when I speak,
And you have never taken my words as wisdom,
And you do not want to learn from my experiences,
Because all you seek is sympathy,
And empathy is nothing you have ever attempted,
And I am tired of being taken for granted,
And I am exhausted by putting you first,
And it is time for me to move on whether you like it or not,
And it is time for you to do the same.
Because I am done with this shit,
And I am done with your complaining,
And I am done attempting to relate to someone who only seeks sympathy and never takes action,
Because when I was that same person,
You were not there to help me.
You did not spend the time to listen to my struggle,
And although this is not about keeping score,
The score board is clear that I have been doing this for years,
And it is time for you to put some points on the board if you want me to continue to stick around,
Because I do not take friends who take me for granted lightly,
And I no longer stand for that kind of emotional abuse from anyone but my mother,
And although you will always be my brother,
You have proved that you will not always be my friend.
But that’s not what matters in the end.
What matters is what you prove to yourself,
And what frustrates me is that there is nothing you can be proud of,
Because you were never challenged,
And you never tried,
And I don’t know what keeps you motivated inside.
So, I love you and I care for you,
But this is where the sympathy ends.
This is where it’s all on you,
And this is when you must find something to do.
It could be cleaning or cooking,
Volunteering or working,
Fanciful or practical,
Demeaning or up lifting.
You just have to do something.
You have to move on.
It is time for change,
Or at least it is for me,
Because I cannot take this pressure any longer,
And you should no longer want to bestow it on me.
I was never you mother and I was never your lover,
And I do not know what I am getting out of this friendship any longer,
Besides a comfort in a lack of change,
And an excuse for being deranged.
So this is when it ends,
And this is where you should begin,
Because this is when I make my exit,
And I do it without regret,
Because you had years to ask my for advice,
And I had years of being dragged down by your strife,
But I won’t take it any longer,
And you can fall or you can follow,
It makes no difference to me,
Because now I am finally allowing myself to be free.