Mind

I keep telling myself,
That it will be fine,
I will get back to normal again,
Like it used to.

Like when we were together,
Enjoying life, worry free,
I keep telling you that it will be fine again,
But you won't listen.

"You'll get through it," they said
"It's just a phase,"
"You're overthinking,"
"Get more sleep," is what I've been told.

They think I can handle it,
I've tried but failed,
They think they had helped me cope,
But all they did was whining.

Now all they can see of me is a walking vessel,
A vessel that is numb to her surrounding,
A vessel somehow merrier in her mind,
A more acceptable and affectionate mind.