Automatic Machine

“How are you?”

“I am good”

So automatic

I don’t even stop to think

Am I even okay?

Maybe I have convinced myself

I am always okay

I am always fine

So much that being not okay feels so foreign

Like who taught my body to think it’s not okay to not be okay

All these quotes and songs about it being okay not being okay

And I still struggle to accept I might not be okay

This poem should have a punchline

But who wants to get hit right now?

Hell, I can even take a blow right now!!!

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