calls for aid

maybe i'm built to fix, to save
to light the beacons, to be so brave
expected to give till there’s no start
all while my world quietly falls apart

i stitched with care in every seam
of others' hopes, of others' dreams
yet in this quiet, i wonder so still
if love returns, or if it ever will

“love me like i’m not made of stone”
a love that burns, yet chills the bone
perhaps it’s fate, a truth i see
to love the world, but not to be.