The hardest part in pretending to be okay
is knowing that you are alone.
They see your smile and hear your laugh
and then they walk away.
Your scream is shattering, yet silent
and for a reason you have yet to discover on your own.
Your words are a game of scrabble
That no one seems to be able to decipher.
It all seems really pointless, now.
Why do you even try?

You’re not okay,
And you’re not okay pretending it’s supposed to be this way.
Forced laughter and twisted smiles,
You never thought life would end up like this.
No one knows and no one cares,
It’s a tragic way to live indeed.

But for some reason, you still want to live.
You want to breathe, you want to dream,
You want desperately to be free.
Death is not something you fear,
But you don’t desire it in the least.
Explain these mutated feelings to me,
I’m lost in hopeless thoughts.

Are you sad, or are you happy?
You don’t seem to know yourself.
Should you cry, or should you laugh?
Opposites to each other of course.
How could you begin to describe this life?
It’s a question mark with no sentence.

And at the end of the day, tucked into bed
Countless hours are spent staring ahead.
The good things,
The bad things,
And all the things in between -
Spiral in your head with no apparent ending.
And you begin to think that maybe, just maybe...
It won’t be as difficult tomorrow.