“Are you okay?”
Everyone asks me the same question.
Do I look like Im not okay?
I know my eyes are rounded with pink and purple from not sleeping for days
I know I look like im dead but does that not make me okay?
I know i'm not but why did you ask?
Why do you want to know if I am?
Do you just want to feel like your helping or do you want to get close enough to know my secrets and paint them on a wall for everyone to see.
The truth gets stuck on my tongue and a lie erupts from my throat.
“Im Fine.”
Avoiding eye contact I scratch my face trying to pry the mask off.
This mask is the only thing that protects me.
I want to take it off at times but who knows what would happen.
It's so much easier to mask my feelings.
If I let them out of my jar then the colors will explode out in the open.
The glass will shatter and make it a dangerous playground for others.
I much rather be alone when this happens.
So no one else can get cut by the sharp clean Ragged edges.
I hide the truth cause it is so easy to.
No one tries to pry it out so I hide away with it.