The speaker is worn out by a question everyone asks: "Are you okay?" Instead of answering it, they turn the request around. Stop asking, they say, and tell me the truth I can't say myself: that no, I'm not okay.
What stands out is the odd reversal. Normally the person who asks is waiting for an answer. Here the speaker wants someone else to state the answer for them. That suggests they find it hard to say it aloud. Maybe the question feels too easy to brush off with "I'm fine," or maybe saying the words takes more strength than they have. Being told, rather than asked, would mean someone has really noticed.
The mood is quiet, tired, and a little raw. The short lines feel stripped down, as if the speaker has no energy left for anything more. There's frustration in it, but also a hidden plea: see me, and don't make me do the work of explaining.