You ask me if I’m okay
What would make you think
Otherwise
Was it my upside-down smile?
My non-words?
Or perhaps the watery-red eyes?
I’d like to leave the non-shelter
Of my confined little desk
And slam the door behind me
Feel the quiet shock reverberating
You ask me if I’m okay
But something makes me think
That you don’t really care
I know that if I said that you’d ask
What would make you think
Otherwise?
I don’t know, I’d say
Was it your forcibly-subdued smile?
Your non-emotions?
Or perhaps the vacant, disinterested eyes?
It’s too hard to explain because nothing
Is apparent on the surface
So I’m okay, I say
Turn my upside-down smile
Wrong-side up
Rub the watery-red eyes and
Claim a particularly energetic sneeze
Hide myself behind the smooth surface
Of my desk
Of non-emotions
Of ‘I’m okay.’
Because what would make you think
Otherwise?