Hello future friend how are you?
I'm sorry our plans to meet up fell through
but I hope you've been taking care of yourself.

How is your family, how are your friends?
I know... asking these questions won't make amends
for my absence in your life recently.

And so I want to dedicate this poem to you
you who makes me reminisce
you whose company brought me bliss
you whose laugh, whose smile I dearly miss
you, my dear friend, who I shamefully dismissed.

I want you to know that you're stronger than you think
and even if you're down, depressed, and your heart would sink
you've made it this far in life and I am so proud of you.
Proud of your small daily victories- yes I noticed how you pull through
all the dark times, all the blurry lines, all the tough and rough
you are beautiful. You are loved. You are enough.

I know it may not seem like I care since it's been a while...
but for what it's worth, I hope I could make you smile

Honestly, I don't know
Some dead and numb, and some left to sew
Cold sweats in this chaotic energy flow
I don't believe I've ever been in a place so low

Does the moon depress when the sun shines its light
When the tides collide like they're all ready to fight
In a darkened world coated by our human blight
There's no fixed star or light to guide me through this hellish night

When did reality start to feel like it became a game
Losing loved ones, like money, as if they both were the same
If bad luck gave attention, guess I'd be drowning in fame
Lacking grip to my sweating, can't tell if I'm really sane

I'm not well, i'm so lost, losing to this circle of hell,
A pattern stuck onto me, maybe i'm stuck to a spell
A world of hurt doesn't shock me, it's where I usually dwell
I wish I could provide better, but i'm broken, can't you tell

I bow down to my goddess,
A mere mortal woman.
Who saves me from hell,
Then drags me back through.
She's broken,
She's damaged,
A wonderous mechanic,
Who can put my back together
With her own two hands.
She wraps me in her arms,
And plunges us down.
I've never been so happy
To be so mentally unsound.

They asked "how are you?"
I said "I'm Fine"
they walked away with no worry
I thought again,
"How could you be so blind?"

-Kaya

How are you ?
" I suggest not to ask that question "
" Why "
Do you want me to lie

On a day to day basis people ask me how I am
I have come to realize that this is a habitual response rather than a genuine inquiry
On most days, I say 'ya know, I'm alive," and I don't bother to ask this question in return.
On my better days, I'll say "I'm good, how are you?"
And I'll watch as their mouth mimics the same lies in response.
I've started to wonder if anyone else can feel the emptiness in our words
Aren't they supposed to mean, something?

During my senior year I was voted most talkative, my yearbook reminds me of how much I've grown
I used to take pride in that social chatter, being able to talk anyone's ear off, or being seen as bubbly and bright just because I knew how to waste time with the filler words.
Now, I tend to keep my mouth shut. I've learned that not everything needs words.
Why it's socially acceptable to ask mere acquaintances how they are, subconsciously reminding them of all the things going wrong in their lives, when we fully know that no one wants to hear the truth. In fact, they look down upon the truth. Don't you dare say the words depression, anxiety, ptsd, mental illness or anything else for that matter. If you can't muster up the "I'm good," it seems, the only other acceptable response is "I'm tired," because, "I'm tired" has become the go to blanket term for every other emotion.
But you know what I'm tired of? People, who don't even care, asking me how I am, because now I can't even stop lying to myself.
The other day my friend asked me if I was okay. In my most convincing voice, I said "I am - always, okay"
They looked at me and mumbled "not okay"
I didn't need their words. I believe that all words are empty until someone fills them up with the presence of their soul. I may not have as many friends as I used to, but the friends that I do have speak with sincerity. When they say something, they draw from life experiences and offer these pieces of themselves, something I do not take for granted.
I collect the pieces and keep them as treasure.
Words are so valuable, as long as you don't leave them empty.

What is a question,
That elicits a thousand answers?
That is more complex than,
The story of the universe?
More confusing than,
The mystery of religion?
Yet a question that,
Is asked all the time?

The question is:
"How are you?"