Don’t expect me to say “I’m okay,”
because I started to go to therapy.
Don’t expect me to smile
because I stopped hurting myself.
Don’t expect me to heal
when I can’t go a day without the thought.
Don’t expect anything from me,
you’ll be greatly disappointed.
And don’t expect me to say thank you
when you stay,
I’m too selfish to say anything.
Or maybe I can’t talk, move my lips to form words,
haven’t you noticed?
And now that I’m here,
I can’t even cry without fear cradled next to the tears.
No, no crying for me. Not again.
Don’t expect me to leave my dorm,
When out there, I can’t hear their voices,
because somehow those who don’t know anything about me
make me the most comfortable.
Don’t expect me to say the truth “I’m empty and lost and emotionless and apathetic and so full of nothing, I don’t know how to break,”
because I go out from my dorm
or go to class or any of the clubs.
And expect me to say “I’m fine.”