The Lie Called Fine

I tell myself I’m fine, I say it every night,

Paint a fucking smile underneath the neon light.

I lie to myself like I believe the words,

But every little silence makes the pain feel worse.

I walk through the rain with my head held low,

Every drop feels like a cut I can’t outgrow.

Like glass from the sky, piercing through my skin,

And I don’t know where the hell I end or begin.

I keep saying, “I’m okay,”

But that’s another fucking lie.

I’m falling apart quietly,

While everybody walks by.

I’m not okay, I’m not okay,

I’m screaming underneath the rain.

The pier feels empty, just like me,

And loneliness is all I see.

Rain like glass cuts through my skin,

I swear I’m trying not to give in.

I tell myself I’ll be alright—

But I don’t fucking believe that tonight.

I stare at the water like it’ll answer me,

Wondering who the hell I’m supposed to be.

The waves keep crashing, but I stay still,

Trying to outrun a heart that never heals.

I’ve gotten damn good at hiding the cracks,

Laughing with people while breaking my back.

“I’m fine,” I whisper, “don’t worry about me,”

While my own reflection looks like a stranger to me.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up and breathe,

Maybe these lies won’t be all that I need.

Maybe I’ll find there’s a reason to stay,

Maybe the darkness won’t swallow the day.

But tonight I’m alone on the edge of the pier,

With nothing but rain and the weight of my fears.

And if I say I’m okay, don’t believe what I say—

I’m tired of fucking lying to myself this way.

I’m not okay, I’m not okay,

But maybe I don’t have to hide the pain.

The rain still falls like shards of glass,

But every storm eventually has to pass.

I’m still alone, but I’m still here,

Even with every fucking fear.

I don’t know when I’ll feel alright—

But maybe surviving is enough tonight.

So let the rain fall down on me,

Let it wash away what I pretend to be.

I’m not okay…

And for once, I won’t lie.

I’m not okay—

But I’m still alive.