I’m Fine

I’m fine.

That’s what I said
when you asked.

Not because it was true,
but because
truth has a habit
of making people uncomfortable.

Two words
are easier
than explaining
what’s been sitting
on my chest for weeks.

I’m fine.

It’s strange
how those words
have become
a social contract.

You ask.
I answer.
We both pretend
the conversation is over.

No one has to admit
they don’t know
what to say next.

I’m fine.

Maybe that’s why
we’ve gotten so good
at performing.

We count followers,
streaks,
paychecks,
grades,
likes,

collecting proof
that we’re doing well.

The performance
is convincing.

Sometimes
even we believe it.

I’m fine.

The world keeps reminding us
to become
better,
healthier,
more productive,
more grateful,
more successful.

Always more.

No one tells us
it’s okay
to simply be
who we are today.

I’m fine.

Maybe that’s the saddest part.

Not that we lie.

That we’ve repeated
the lie
so many times

it almost sounds
like the truth.