“I’m ok.” “I’m fine.” Two constant affirmations I fool everyone around me with.
Everyday they ask, “How are you?” and my general answer is either of the two lies I’ve grown accustomed to say.
Am I that good at acting? Have I finally mastered the art of pretending that no one can see that those affirmations are expressed through eyes so tired of crying, a mouth swollen from biting back screams, and a heart so empty?

Everyday I put on my fake happy mask, hoping that no one will notice how broken I really am.
But a part of me, albeit a small part, is begging and hoping that someone, anyone would just grab me and look past my façade.
I desperately want, no, need someone to just search through my eyes, see past my fake smile and tell me “You’re not okay.”

Is that too much to ask? Someone to just tell me that they know I’m not fine.
That it’s okay I’m not okay, that they’re here for me?
But I know it’s impossible. I burn the bridges people make before they even lay a foot on it.
I build my walls higher until it’s no longer penetrable.
I push people away, fearing that I’ll only end up with more tears and sleepless nights.
And yet I crave care.

See how ****** up I am?

I wish…I just wish that someone would actually be brave enough to rebuild the bridges I’ve burned, break down the walls I’ve built, no matter how hard it may be, and just tell me,

“You’re not alone.”

I was never a believer of love, of soul mates or happy endings
But when I saw you sitting near the door of an old café,
E.E Cummings in one hand, coffee in the other
I knew you were the one.

You looked so focused on the poem you were reading
A furrow to your brow, a pout on your lips,
A gaze so transfixed on the text, the world around you barely existed.
You were in your world, and I wanted to be part of it.

And as if my mind and heart had an agreement, my legs started to move
Closer and closer, my hand reached the door, went inside, walked a few more steps
Just a bit more I told myself, I started to reach for you, to ask if I may talk with you
But before I could, you looked up at me, smiled, and the breath I didn’t know I was holding in for so long was knocked out of me.
You were so beautiful.

Your eyes were the shade of the finest and richest of chocolates,
Your cheeks the most beautiful of roses,
Your lips the perfect canvas for mine to paint,
And your smile the sweetest of honeys.

Closer I went and finally I reached you.
I grabbed your hand, E.E Cummings shortly forgotten, sat in front of you and with all the courage I could muster, I spoke your favorite verse.
“I carry your heart with me, I carry it in my heart. Wherever I go my dear, you go.”

I looked like a lovesick fool and you looked confused.
You smiled, intertwined our fingers and asked what was wrong.
I said everything is fine. Ever since you allowed me to carry your heart and you carried mine, everything has been better than fine