You cannot see

Standing in the moon light,
On a cold and lonely night,
Whisky bottle in my hand,
Waiting for the next command.

Fall down. Lay in the lane,
Give in to the pain.
Bleed crimson blood,
Create a ruby flood.

A delicate red lace,
No beauty, no grace,
A bloody patchwork,
Where sorrows lurk.

Something talks to me,
It wants me to be free,
It sings the sweetest songs,
And rights all me wrongs.

It gives me gifts of blade,
And keeps my cuts in shade.
It holds me when I cry,
And will help when I die.

I do not belong here,
That is oh so clear,
I need a release,
I deserve my peace.

I look to you for support,
You are my last resort.
I call for you to help me,
But you cannot see.

I keep calling out for help. I may not ask with words, but HELP carved into my arm in big letters might have given people a clue. But no.