Depression made a liar out of me

 
You ask me how I am and I said I'm doing fine,
Even though to my skin I started drawing lines.

You question if my response was truly sincere,
I continue to feed denial into your ear.

You look into my eyes and you still can't see,
All the darkness inside of me.

You grabbed my hand and again asked me how I am,
I have an automatic response as if I wre a program.

Truthfully I've been feeling low,
But how much pain I really feel Is something you don't need to know.