How are you doing?
-I'm fine...
You don't sound fine.
-I'm fine
Please don't lie.
-I'm not, I'm fine.
Okay.
-Why aren't you asking if I'm fine again ?
You said you were..
-I lied.
You said you didn't.
-I did.
How could you lie to me?
-I'm sorry I don't know how to ask for help but I need it. I'm sorry.
You're terrible, end your life. Disapproving, hate filled comments that eat you inside until you can't breathe from the lack of insides... Insults that hurt. That shed tears from your eyes as rivers flow into waterfalls. Inserted here.
-I'm sorry.
Hey...
-Hi.
How are you, please don't lie. I'm sorry for what I've said.
-I'm fine.
More insults pushed to you and shoved deep within you. Insults you think for hours on. Insults you knew were true but you didn't want to believe. Insults you've heard a thousand times. They make you say fine. The word fine. Insults equal fine. Insults inserted here.
I'm sorry, I didn't mean it.
-It's okay.
So how are you today..
-Fine.
A rope pulled tightly, a bottle that used to be full of a solution but now nothing but a selfish decision backed with sorrow filled reason . A gun loaded only moments ago. A body. Alive. Only moments ago.
To your tombstone I will always ask, how are you. To it I will always say sorry and in response I will only hear the echo of two words. I'm fine.
