the line beneath the metaphors

You ask me how I am
and we talk around the problem
your frustration
my lingering silence
if I don't tell you what's wrong
it won't make this real

I dream of ocean tides
pulling me under
it's only half a metaphor
I'm both the victim
and the predator

Top me up with dopamine
readjust these mood drops with Prozac
and enough talk therapy
to make me lose my voice
and the desire to set
my own mind on fire

You ask me how I am
and I dodge the question
like I dodge every question
you send my way
cause I don't have the brain power
to deal with this today

If I sleep through the pain
and panic attacks
maybe it'll make them go away
but not really
cause that's not how healing works

You ask me how I am
and we talk around the problem
your frustration
my lingering silence
if I don't tell you what's wrong
it won't make this real

There's an ocean tide
with my name on it
and if you don't ask the specifics
I won't tell you what it really means

I talk around the problem