Are you okay, They ask.
Their starting to notice that I'm not.
I don't lie,
But when they ask why I began to ramble and then I cry.

I think that I am okay,
People tell me that I am,
But what do they know?
This doesn't feel okay.

I know I'm not depressed.
Nor am I sad, happy, angry, lonely, or empty.
I'm just stuck and I'm done trying to care
I'm done trying to help others.

Go ahead and tell me that I'm not worthless,
that I'm not useless,
but can't you see it doesn't matter what you think?
The problem is I still hate me.