Fine

I feel so fucking worthless
All the goddamn time.
The stress I feel
is all too real
I’m far from fucking “fine”

But that’s the answer you will receive
If anyone cared to ask.
“How’re you?”
“Fine and you?”
I say from behind my mask.

I’m neither homesick nor sick of home
I love my family.
But I feel stuck in web
As my sanities ebb
And I suck all the fear into me.

Fear controls my day to day
It is always close to hand.
It stops me from driving
Or otherwise thriving
In this Me forsaking land.

“If x=y then why even try”
My brain oft says to me
So my tongue I hold
And just do what I’m told
To a greater or lesser degree.

In short, I feel so hollow at times.
A husk of a former man.
A beard and a belly
In front of the telly
Existing while I can.