I Plead The Fifth Poem by AMINA AYINLA

I plead the fifth.
I never get those messages.
You know, those ones that say,
"Are you okay? "
Well, I do but they're insults, they're jokes.
Not words of concern, none of them actually care.
I won't say I'm sad or depressed,
I just don't know whether to go east or go west.
Because I am tired, confused and stressed.
I try to smile at everyone I talk to,
So they think I'm fine.
But they don't know I still shed tears in the night.
Awake by 12: 00am, wondering if it's worth the fight.
And the pain of living, the pain pierces my skin.
I am alive and I am well.
But I feel dead from within.

I read romance books,
Because I want to feel loved.
I hate action,
Because I'm afraid of getting hurt.
I'm not really scared of the dark,
It's a metaphor, you see?
Being surrounded by darkness,
It means everyone will eventually leave me.
I want people to notice,
Notice that my smiles are fake,
That I really don't feel good today and every day.
That I question my existence the whole time I am awake.
Notice that I really am not okay.
But they don't.
Because apparently, I need to show it.
I need to show that I am suffering.
I need to show that I feel nothing.
They need to see it before they can help me.
Because now that my eyes hold no emotion,
And my body looks frail,
Now that I rarely talk to anyone,
And my usual smile is absent from my face,
That's when they finally ask,
"Are you okay? "
I am not, but it doesn't matter.
If you actually cared, you'd have noticed.
You could have helped,
You could have stopped this.
That single question,
Could have made feel like my life was worth it.
But I have already taken my decision,
And it's not victory but defeat.
Let me make myself clearer.
I resign, I quit.
Therefore, I am unable to answer your question.
I plead the fifth.