You look at me,
head bent, shoulders down
face contorted by a frown,
tears barely held at bay,
yet you still ask, "Are you okay?"
As my head turns towards you
and a facade of a smile
returns once more
to hide my pain
I think of a million things to say.
I could tell you of my sorrows,
my many weighing burdens.
I could relate all my anger and hate,
not of others but rather of myself.
I could pin you down under the mound
of torturous experiences I live through daily.
Instead, I lie.
With practiced, fake motions
I look you in the eye
and begrudgingly utter
two words that disarm
your insincere concern.
"I'm fine."
Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 9:46 PM UTC
You look at me,
head bent, shoulders down
face contorted by a frown,
tears barely held at bay,
yet you still ask, "Are you okay?"
As my head turns towards you
and a facade of a smile
returns once more
to hide my pain
I think of a million things to say.
I could tell you of my sorrows,
my many weighing burdens.
I could relate all my anger and hate,
not of others but rather of myself.
I could pin you down under the mound
of torturous experiences I live through daily.
Instead, I lie.
With practiced, fake motions
I look you in the eye
and begrudgingly utter
two words that disarm
your insincere concern.
"I'm fine."
