It's okay, not to be okay. Okay?

Is it bad that I cut? When I'm stuck in a rut? When nobody is there. I wonder if they care? Where I end up, who I become. Maybe it best just to be glum. I wish I could feel pain again. It's no longer there. I feel nothing, my heart and soul are just hollow like this cold, dry air. I try and be pretty, and stick up for what is right. But it's hard to keep flight. When your plane is shot down, and there is nobody around. I try and dress right, put on make up and everything. People just stare at me and laugh 'cause I'm suffering. I know you are all just thinking that I should grow a pair of balls and quit complaining! I'm sorry if I confuse you, I'm just trying to do what's right. But there is just darkness left of me, there is no light.