Remedies of a Broken Soul

I'm Okay

*Listen to the song as you read. They go along with each other.*

I'm okay.
This is all just a phase.
I wake up each day
and throw a mask onto my face.
Nobody really knows me.
Not the real me.
They only know and see the happy phase, the happy side.
Little does anyone know what happens at night.
Little does anyone know what's on the other side of my mask.
I pretend to be okay.
I don't want to see people's worried faces.
And I never have to because I don't let anyone close enough to take off my mask.
Or to see the other side,
the real side.

My pillow feels my pain.
It sucks up my tears and sobs each night.
My blanket shields me from myself and my life.
It takes away the light and keeps me with the darkness.
That's where I belong,
alone and in the dark.

I hide each night as my thoughts consume me.
I try to fight the demons, but I'm too damn weak.
I can't kill them.
My monsters comfort me.
They are there for me.
They agree with my 2 a.m. thoughts.

I don't want the pity.
I don't deserve it.
There's no reason for me to feel so sad and alone.
I deserve the demons and the monsters.
At least they understand.

I no longer dream.
No, I don't deserve an escape.
I close my eyes, and see nothing but black.
The darkness takes over every night, and I just hide in the back.

But I'm okay.
I don't deserve the worried look on your face.
I will put on my mask in the morning again.
I will pretend to be happy until the darkness arrives.
Once it does, I will welcome it with open arms.
Then I will slip into bed, and let my demons take over.
After all, they own my head.
My pillow will suck up my tears and screams, as my blanket will shield me from any light.
You will never know or suspect a thing.
Not unless I take my life.
I think about it each night, but I don't deserve an escape from this never ending nightmare.
I don't deserve to use pills or alcohol or a blade to kill the pain that's inside.

But after all I'm okay.
And I put on that brave happy face.
Until I am home, and let my monsters take over.
I don't want to see your pitied face.
I don't deserve it.
I don't deserve a thing because I am nothing.
My demons agree as they comfort me and my 2 a.m. thoughts.
Don't you know I do this to myself, after all?