“Good” Morning

Chaos. Silence. And a hundred lies I’ll tell myself before noon. 

It’s okay. 

It doesn’t hurt that bad. 

Sorry, it was just a pinch. 

I’m fine.

I feel better today. 

Do you think they believe you? Does it matter if they do?

I am embarrassed that I cannot move. When people ask me how I’m doing, I say “good” or “fine” or “it was bad but I’m fine now.” I feel weak in every sense of the word. 

Weak for not being able to carry groceries up the stairs,

for crying all the time

and calling out of work.

Weak for staying in bed

and sleeping all day.

Weak for needing help

and for never asking right away. 

Weak for waiting to be better, rather than pushing through the pain. 

I am lost and confused and devastated and insane. Can you open my head and pour me down the drain? Love is lost when you refuse to explain.