"It's all okay,"
"Everything... is okay."
talking to myself again,
in whispers almost too quiet to be heard,
in screams almost too loud to block out.
"Okay," the old mantra,
a magic word,
to banish evil.
"It's fine," I try to convince the ceiling.
"It's alright," I cry into my pillow beseechingly.
"It's okay," I say,
and I say,
and I say,
until I can't
