"Are you okay?"
Suddenly, you're on the verge of bursting into tears. Your heart aches and your limbs fail, and you just sit there and bite your lips to prevent yourself from crying. Have you been waiting to be asked this?
You're a ticking bomb, with a clock counting down. It has been 17 years. And only today, of all days, you look like you're going to explode.
It's like, the question is the trigger. Is it the trigger? You don't know. No one knows. But you're about to explode.
You know you're not okay. You're not sure why, though. There's a thousand of reasons. There's none. You can't count them with your fingers, and you can't pick one to use to explain.
Would they understand, even, if you try? Would they help? Would it help- if you explain? Would you not sound or feel stupid?
What is it? What's wrong? Why do you want to cry?
"Are you okay?"
I'm not. But it's okay.
---
[12/01/17]
YOU ARE READING
Once Upon A Lone Heart | ✔
PoetryIt's you. It's always you. But it never should have been. --- [A collection of thoughts I thought were good when I first thought of them.] [12/07/18 rank - #480/528 in prose] [17/07/18 rank - #203/556 in prose]
