"Are you okay?"
"What's wrong?"
"Why are you so sad?"

Bad thoughts hurtling through my head.
Do I tell them that last night I wanted to die,
Or do I tell them that I'm just doing fine.

I go with the simple white lie, *"Yeah, I'm just tired."
You believed it alright, said it's just seasonal depression.
You said that I'll be fine in no time.
But if you took the time to look up and peer into my eyes,
you would see the cry for help and the ache inside.
I'm too proud to ask for help yet I'm too afraid,
that you'll look at me as a broken piece that no longer fits in this game.

If I went to a doctor, they might tell me I'm vitamin D deprived,
because the stale air and fluorescent lights will wash you out
and cause you to isolate and want to die inside.
If I went to a doctor, they might tell you I'm depressed,
put me on a bunch of pills so all these thoughts can be oppressed.
If I went to a doctor, they might tell you I'm insane,
lock me up and put me away,
to think about me another day.

So, I guess here's another white lie
"I'm not sad, I'm doing just fine."

*-c.a.