The day I understand
what goes on in my head
is the day I stop crying after he says, “I love you,”
the day I stop laughing after she falls on her face,
the comfort in the words of people I’ve never met,
the coldness in the arms that have held me forever,
the inability to feel safe in my own skin
yet the ability to walk into a room of strangers and say
“I feel fine.”
The day I understand it
is the day I make a billion dollars
only to realize that money
doesn’t buy happiness.
Oh… but it’s my own head.
Shouldn’t I be able to know I’ve not lost it?