Okay?

Am I going to be okay?

I keep asking myself

I push people away 

I dont know how I feel 

Its not happy its not sad

Its not ideal

Im slowly sinking 

down below

from overthinking 

many helping hands

but i deny the help 

no one understands 

i want help but no one can help the way i need 

so i help myself

and let my words bleed

so when someone asked

"are you okay?"

i masked 

faked a smile 

and said of course 

while my thoughts compile

i cant answer the question myself

so im going to hide it

back on a shelf 

entel the day

i know 

i'll be okay

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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