There's one thing I always say: I'm okay. I'm not okay, it's just a cover, I'm never going to be okay. I may find myself and who I am but I'll never be myself. Myself meaning okay or good but I'm not.
I've never been myself and it all got worse ever since the dreams. The dreams that started my fall, the dreams that killed what was left of my happiness. The dreams that started my anxiety.
All these dreams are actually my reality, all I do is get hurt so really they aren't dreams but nightmares. Usually your nightmares end after you wake up but mine, mine only begin then. The second I open my eyes, all my nightmares come to life, they become my reality.
Having to put on the mask of happiness. The mask that somehow gets me through my day. A mask that everyone seems to fall for. Even if the mask falters for a long while No one notices.
No one notices you're not okay. If they did, they would say something about it. No body cares enough to ask anyways. There are times where people have asked me if I'm okay but I usually lie and say I'm great. I'm not okay and i don't think I will ever be.
YOU ARE READING
Poems For The Soul
Poetryjust some really shitty writings from a bored girl. I warn you these are mostly sad and depressing I hope you enjoy!
