"What's wrong with you?"
I'm asked once more
As I stare into my hands.
I'm never sure how I should reply
Because they're not happy with "everything".
I can't tell them that my toes are cold
Or that I feel sick when I see him
Or even that I'm just upset
Because those aren't good enough reasons.
I can't say that I'm overwhelmed
Or that I can't get out of bed
And I can't say that my heart is well
When all I feel is dread.
I'm afraid of everything all at once
And I don't know how to say
That I can't believe people when they say
"The future will see better days".