Therapy

She asked when was the last time I was happy
I asked what is happy
She tells me to answer
I said I don't remember the last time I perfered a sun rise over a sun set
She asked how long I've felt this way
I asked how long we've admired the sun but studied the moon
She asked how do I cope with it all
I don't eat diner, I pick up a razor, I run, I write, I do everything but get better
I asked what should I do
She asked if I always answer questions with questions
I say only ones that I don't know the answer to
Long story short she asked how I was doing today
And I said

Being suicidal is relating to the stars more than ever
Being suicidal is wishing you were still a flower
It's seeing a sun rise and realizing you don't care anymore
Or maybe seeing a sunset and thanking the moon
Suicidal thoughts are like the moon eclipsing the sun
But think of the sun as happy, and the moon as reasons to stay in bed
And the eclipse as the want to never wake up again
But it's okay
I'm fine

I'm fine... i say while sitting in theapry
And this is why I hate myself
I have an issue with lying
Don't get me wrong, I'm one of the most honest people you'll ever meet
Unless you ask me if I ate
Or if I'm okay
When it's about my mental state my tounge decides it'd rather wait to tell the truth
My throat gets cold and my heart isn't whole enough to speak
"Why don't you ever take off that hoodie?"
"I'm cold"
"Its the middle of summer, why are you wearing those pants?"
Well...
1) I'm scared of being outside in short
2) you don't wanna see my thighs
3) skinny jeans make me feel skinny
4) I can run better in these
5) cat calls- enough said
But I say "I get cold easily"
You see, I don't lie
But I hardly tell the full truth when it comes to
"Are you okay?"
"No, but it's fine"
Why does my voice betray my mind?
Why has my tounge become a dancer?
Spinning on stage
Around and around until it becomes something new
Something untrue
Its an art
But one that I hate