I'm not the answer they are looking for |
"How you doing? Alright? That's great" He smiles, brightly. I force the corners Of my horizontal mouth to Curl up in reply, And I walk on by. There's no space for replies. Actually, I haven't been doing Very well lately. But he doesn't want To know that. That's not the answer He wants to hear. So My voice is taken, My reply he is faking, I force a smile, he Cannot see behind. When he turns away, I pay, in compliments, His smile forward. A mask For the living nightmares, Anxiety, stress, and longing For a good nights sleep. This is why they say Teenagers are two faced. They just don't know What it really means. I head up the stairs, Towards his class, I pick up a pencil, And I try hard. Yet All of a sudden, I'm Really tired, As if the world has drained Me of everything I have. I fall, I stumble, I blank, Man down. He looks on In wonder, blissfully naïve. "You said you were okay" I don't have the heart To tell him that I said Nothing, nothing at all. Home again. Longing For the hour when it's Finally acceptable to Close my eyes, and Forget to feel. They tell the doctor, "She's so tired all the time" But it's not true, It's not because of a lack of sleep, Or insomnia, or overload. It's because of a longing An addiction to forgetting, Where no one has to pretend, Like they don't feel Numb. |