When you ask me how I am, I could tell you a lot.
I could tell you how I hate myself.
How I look into the mirror and cry.
How I drag that blade across my skin every night.
How I shove my finger down my throat.
How I go to sleep, begging not to wake up.
How I wish I could just disappear.
How I am drifting away from everything.
How I cry so hard, I can't breathe.
But I won't.
I'll say I'm fine, and smile.