I look fine today.
Well dressed, a smile somehow.
You didn’t see me yesterday,
All you care about is now.
Yesterday I hadn’t showered.
I hadn’t washed my hair.
I hadn’t had a change of clothes,
In a few days let’s be fair.
Dark thoughts as I took my meds.
I cried myself to sleep.
With sedatives and alcohol.
A secret I will keep.
The first time I told someone.
“You’re young and pretty,” he said.
Because I looked fine that day,
But I wanted myself dead.
Weeks later in the hospital:
“Why didn’t you give us a sign?”
I tried my best to let you know, But you told me I looked fine.
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