people ask me if I'm okay. people ask if I'm feeling alright. people ask if I'm holding up.
people always think somethings wrong. but they never ask if my wrists are clean. they never ask if I've eaten a good meal. people never have. sometimes, I think they know it's not okay, that I'm not okay. they just don't care. they don't care how I'm feeling or that every color I look at is mixed with black. they don't care that my mind becomes more and more strange and demented at night. they don't care that when I wake up at 3 and 4 in the morning, I can't move. they don't care that I can't escape my own nightmares. they don't care about my feelings or the way I gasp for air and stutter when I'm nervous. they don't care. they only think of themselves. I have to think for myself now. I live for me. I live to be me. if they don't like it, oh well. but now, 'me' is way more important than 'how you're doing' or 'are you okay'. 'me' doesn't care. the girl you used to know, is gone. allow me to reintroduce myself.
