My cry for help isn’t cuts on wrists
Nor bruises on my neck
My cry for help isn’t baggy eyes,
And rolled down sleeves
My cry for help is the long, deep laugh I let out even when the joke’s not that funny
My cry for help is the extra second I hold your hand instead of letting go
My cry for help is the tight squeeze I give when we hug, even when it’s just for a second
My cry for help is the extra width of my smile when I can’t find words
My cry for help is right there in front of you but you just can’t see it.
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