Not Okay (a villanelle)
I’m standing up ready to face the day But maybe you deserve to know That, actually, I’m not okay I’ve packed my losses and grief away In a sturdy box to stand on and show That I’m up and ready to face the day It’s a tidy box that I can hide and say “Look, I’m fine. Nothing you need to know.” But, actually, I’m not okay. There’s not much room left to stow away Any more than I can deal with now, so I can stand up ready to face the day The lock is creaking and the hinges strain While I convince myself I can go with the flow And ignore the fact that I’m not okay This is likely the way I’ll always stay But maybe you really have a right to know That I’m standing up ready to face the day But, actually, I’m not okay. March 2025