Am I happy, or am I just a robot?
Have you ever
wondered
if you were really happy
or just a robot?
Living life
as if it were a game we play
moment to moment
spot to spot.
Worrying about stupid things
like thigh gaps
and manicures
and being hot.
I call myself a good friend
but I tell secrets
mouth a hose
and the water’s hot.
When people call me out
I shut off my heart
and say I’m sorry
but that’s all I got.
And I don’t really care.
I’m doing me.
But
what if by doing me
I’m killing the me
that hits the spot.
For the people I love.
The ones who ride or die
try
listen when I’m down
and cheer when I’m not.
I say I’m crushing it
my life
but I’m losing myself
while I’m calling the shots.