I hate it when people ask me if I am okay
Cause I either have to lie or tell you and y’all always the wrong things
Like Don’t let the sadness get to you, you are strong
Then I start to feel weak because the sadness has got to me, I am not srong
I hate it when people ask me why I might be depressed
Cause I don’t know if I am even depressed, I could be just moody
And I hate to put a possessive pronoun near depression
Also because I really don’t know why I sometimes wake up feeling so down
I hate it when people ask why I don’t smile alot
Because I really don’t know and care for smiling
Because it’s not my duty to make your day better by smiling
I hate it when people ask why I look good at a particular day “Do you have a date?
First of all, I look good everyday in my eyes and my important opinion
Two, Is a guy the only reason I can look good?
Third, I look good because I like seeing what I see in and on myself
Fourth, I often wear lingerie just because I like how I feel in it
I hate it when people ask “Are you okay?’ when I am about to cry
Because I often burst into tears
And you often have no idea how to deal with a crying girl
Also I am that bitch!! So I don’t cry in front of people
I hate it when people ask what my writing meant or who I was writing about
Because your interpretation should be the only thing that matters to you; that’s the point of the writing.
Because the fact that I tell intimate stuff about my life should be enough and when I choose to withhold some, don’t get angry
Because you make my writing look like a gossip magazine for gathering information about me instead of trying to see how the words I write change you or improve you.
I don’t hate it when you ask the point of this article
Because I also don’t know
But I will leave with the dopest poem I have ever heard by Mutabaruka
With love and whatever this is,