I'm Okay

Now, I don't understand why I get asked this all the time, of course I'm okay, I have a roof over my head and food on my plate, I have a bed and a wardrobe full of the clothes I love. You would think that I'm obviously doing fine, so why is it that people ask me this? Is it because of the things that go on underneath that supposed roof I have over my head? Is it because I throw up all that food I have on my plate? Or is it because that bed in my room has pillows full of my dried tears that I shed religiously every night while everyone is asleep? Oh or maybe that the clothes I love all have long black sleeves that cover the countless scars on my wrists that just stopped bleeding. Maybe people ask me if I'm okay because that smile that I had that could light up the darkest room had left me long ago. Those bright blue eyes that I had full of hope and determination have turned into dull grey eyes that have lost all meaning, my sun kissed skin has gone pale and lifeless, my beautiful golden brown hair that was once long and flowed effortlessly in the wind has become black and short, when I cut it just like I cut off everyone else I had in my life, and dyed it so that all remaining of that once happy and bright girl has become a dull and lifeless. Maybe that's why people ask if I'm okay.