Pointing chubby fingers at brother
Grinning as I lay the blame.
Concerned people surrounding me,
Asking the same tired thing,
“Are you okay?”
Only wanting a little white lie,
“Yes, I’m fine.”
Instead of handing them my mangled mind.
Making up problems where there are none
Not knowing that a mountain of worth,
Filled to the tip with too many “I’m fines”
Would be traveling my way.
Saying that these eyes are eternally dry
Not one drop of unwanted water forming
When I know that is far from the truth.
Lying to myself is always easy
Until it comes unraveled
And my lips taste the bitter truth
Pricking my fingers
With the dull blade of reality
Keeping the lies of a normal life at bay
Twistings of the truth
Come out for him
“Yes, dad, I’m fine."