What's wrong?
Everything.
Nothing.
Are you alright?
No.
Of course, yeah.
Did you get enough sleep?
Did I sleep at all?
Yeah- I slept great.
Have you eaten?
Not hungry.
I did, yeah.
How are you?
I want to die.
I'm well, thanks.
You okay?
Not at all.
I'm fine.
I'm full of thoughts.
And secrets
That I will never share.
But
I just feel like
I'm lying.
To everyone.
About everything.
I'm okay. Trust me.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts
PoesíaMy thoughts tend to form like poems, so I figured I'd share them- part of me hoping they make sense to more than just myself.
