I don’t want to ask for help
I can do it my damn self.
A well traveled path
cut deep in the dirt
by years of my wagon wheels.
I’m not sure that it’s pride
I think it’s more of a self preservation instinct.
Most people leave
they aren’t available for help for too long anyway.
To recognize I need help
have to admit that I can’t do it alone
and that arrives with failure, and with shame.
Two partners, on the case.
Arriving with shiny black shoes
wide-brim hats
looking for the sign that bears my name.
I don’t want to ask for help.
I can do it my damn self.
Trial and error is part of any process;
learning any skill.
Not every process is meant to be completed alone
I’ve been picking up “team lift” boxes
before I was fully grown.
I can mess it up and push through anyway.
I can take twice as long to do it
than with an extra set of hands.
I can drop my motorcycle on my thigh
cut it deep
and have to ask for help anyway.
That’s the way it goes sometimes.
Asking for help clicks in
like a familiar sad song on the jukebox
when I’ve exhausted my options
faced with no paths forward, solid smooth rock
and two broken axles.
Sometimes I can’t stand up on only my two feet.
I can’t pick up the burdens
reverse-grip dead lift until my back screams.
I need to ask for help.
I can’t do it alone, I can’t only rely on myself.