Oceans of Apathy

Conversations with myself
A cry for help
Carefully chosen words to provide ambiguity
Hiding behind the artistry
Allusions and metaphors in place of the literal truth
Deeply intimate issues put on display
Shrouded by interpretation
My heart bleeding in plain sight
Obscured by the craft
My pain on a pedestal
Shining a light into the caverns of my soul
Praised as a show of talent instead of seeing the bigger picture
Looking at the deeper meaning
Who created this rhythm and flow from a fractured mind?
Why would they say such things?
Such bitter, poignant balladry
Who questions the purpose of these expressions?
Each piece is like a whisper in a crowd
A single drop in an ocean of apathy
I wear my thoughts on my sleeve
But no one likes my shirt
Still the sleeves grow longer to contain my endless musings
The words repeat themselves in a different order
All conveying the same message:
Help me
I need it more than I can admit
Help me
Before I run out of ways to say it