You think I’m fine, the way I conceal my current state of mind behind a mask so purely constructed with lies.
But pay attention my friend, and learn to read between the lines, what I have to say and what I feel inside.
I have very little to offer, but I try to drop clues between the jokes I tell, praying and hoping for once you could uncover the reality that lies beneath the laughter of my “knock knock” joke.
You think I’m fine, how could you even consider a smile so perfect is actually sore and aching from all the faking.
You don’t notice how my hands are always cold, and my forehead always sweaty, my knees weak and my shoulders shaking. I don’t blame you, you weren’t raised to sense the inconvenience of a clearly unstable person.
And I fear if I tell you about the restless nights spent tossing and turning looking for solution’s of a problem I don’t even seem to have, or if I told you about the way I’m locked and guarded, the way I’ll probably never trust someone again. If I tell you about the genuine fear of interaction with others of my species, you will look at me differently for the rest of my life I will be another experiment gone wrong, another mirror accidentally smashed half-broken, you will think of me as a delicate, weak charity case for you to spread some more super glue on. Easy to shatter and demolish, crash and explode, that’s all you’ll ever think of me as.So I’m sorry if I’m never honest when you ask me “how I’m doing?” –H