Im fine

When I say "fine," it's a cloak for the storm, A veneer of calm that I carefully form. Behind the calm words, there's a tempest of doubt, A façade that shields what I’m truly about. Fine is the mask I wear to keep peace, A way to assure that my troubles will cease. But inside the veil, there's a tumultuous sea, Where my heart's deepest questions churn silently. Fine is the word that hides what's unspoken, A subtle disguise for the feelings that’re broken. It's the smile that falters, the laughter that wanes, The cracks in the surface where sorrow remains. When I say "fine," it's not truly the truth, It's a sheltering lie from my days of youth. It’s the quiet retreat when the pain starts to show, A way to keep others from truly knowing. Fine is a refuge where I hide from the light, A word that deflects from my struggle and fight. It’s the surface of calm where deep shadows dwell, An echo of what I’m too shy to tell. So when I say "fine," read between the lines, It’s not just the surface, it’s where silence aligns. For "fine" often means that the heart’s not at rest, A hint of the struggle beneath the façade dressed.