Cryforhelp Stories

No year is a perfect year. Some days will be written properly. Some days will be messy. Some days might be missing. This is just a person, going through a year, trying, failing, resting, hoping, and writing when it feels right. If you're here, you're welcome to stay ❤️

may or may not be a secret message for help

I honestly don't know what to put here.. I decided to write a book, and so I wrote these poems. I know that they aren't very good, but at least I tried.. right?? 😅😅😅

A collection of screams in silence weekly updates

these are poems containing what I couldn't tell those I rely on. confiding in writing, the only thing that hasn't left after all these years.

Dysphoria Problems

poems for all the words i can't say anything and everything goes. i write sporadically and about whatever i want. hence the title i've had the same compilation since the 6th grade, please skip to the better poems... (aka deep breaths and onward, objectively)

Nobody understands, nobody wants to hear. Some people listen but it's hard to get the point across properly when all the thoughts going on at the same time are hard to differentiate and form into a single thought process to say out loud. Most will say there's nothing wrong because everything seems fine, words are forming in full sentences, demeanor seems normal, and feeling so sad is normal sometimes. If there were a way to explore a sick mind that looks normal from the outside, would it be worth the effort to try to understand? If there were some way to see through the eyes of someone with psychological struggles that are hard to explain and virtually invisible, wouldn't it be easier to interact with and help those people? Sick like us is the first piece of a collection of allegories that are meant to bridge the communication gap between a less common perspective and a world that can't comprehend such an inconspicuous illness.

Lily Sinclair has depression. One day right after attempting suicide she is kidnapped and taken to paradise. Her adventure is only beginning. Does she ever return home?

A poem that goes into the reality that not everything and everyone is perfect.

Minds will play up. Keep reading to see.

My dad was my world but only on his time. That both destroyed me and made me.

This could be a few pages of shit or it could turn into a master peice.... i just need to write to get out of my head

i legit have no one to talk to so here's what i'm thinking

true story

Just my way of venting and low-key talking about my mental health

A pain the girl faces, the regrets that force her to kill herself. she see's death as the punishment for the sin she committed which is falling in love with him

Value of objects over life

Unheard is a raw and intimate piece about what it feels like to be surrounded by people yet still feel completely invisible. It dives into the quiet battles we fight in our own minds, the screams no one hears, the pain no one notices, and the desperate wish for something as simple as being acknowledged. If you've ever felt unseen, overlooked, or silenced, this poem will speak to you in the way words sometimes can when nothing else does.

My poems bleed honesty, carrying the kind of weight most people are too scared to name. They move through heartbreak, abandonment, rage, and soft fragments of healing, stitching raw emotion into sharp imagery. Every piece is both confession and confrontation an unflinching look at what it means to be broken, and what it costs to rebuild. The voice is vulnerable but unafraid, cracked but steady, pulling readers into the wreckage and forcing them to find the beauty hidden inside it.