For every time 
I say I’m fine,
There’s always 
Words left behind. 
For everything 
That I write,
There’s always letters 
Hidden from the light. 
And people seem to forget
That fine is relative. 
And that every ‘I’m fine’
Holds an ‘I’m not’. 
And perhaps it’s meant
To be that way,
Because I never want to say
That you never really cared anyway. 
So I keep up the mantra,
Because it’s easier
To say I’m fine,
With these scripted lines,
And to keep smiling,
With my mask shattering,
Then it is to explain
Why I’m not okay.