“Are you okay?“
Sometimes when I’m on the street my knees buckle, and my eyes start to loosen, and something is disturbing because strangers ask me if I need help.
Sometimes my breath gets caught in my throat for no reason other than because it doesn’t see the point in rising out of my lungs.
Sometimes I am making a point, talking about an issue I feel passionate about or want to debate, or am answering a question, until I realise I am living alone and I have been talking to empty spaces.
Sometimes I wonder if I were to swim far enough into the ocean, I would just let go and dream and get swept away by the waves.
Sometimes I am afraid to look at myself in any mirror or reflective surface, afraid to smile, afraid to be the girl I should be, surely.
Sometimes i stare at my hands and wonder about palm-reading, attempting to etch the lines in them- heart, love, life - but it’s all in the head, not the hands.
Sometimes I don’t know were I am or how I got there, what time or day it is, what the hell is going on, and whether I’m broken.
Sometimes it’s like the sky is scraping against my scalp and my fingers are rattling, meaning I’m nervous and over-tired, which is why I see glimpses of men in my peripheral vision, who were never there when I turn to look.
Sometimes there’s a ringing in my ears, the vestiges of some old argument, which makes me
wonder what I could have done.
Sometimes there’s just not enough. Sometimes there’s just too much.
Yet there’s something building, breaking and churning, roaring, shattering and collapsing, tumbling amid the dust clouds rising, rising, rising, rising -
What did I do? What is defective in me and can I do anything about it and most importantly, will the people I care about worry too much or care too little? I don’t know, I can’t breathe, and oh god oh god oh god oh god what do i do what do i do what do -
“I'm fine, why do you ask?"