The Dead Language— I’m Fine
I’m fine.
But I am tired,
scared,
Lonely,
and a fossil of every broken promise.
I am okay.
But my heart is aching,
my lungs are choked
by the air of others’ victories,
my eyes could water crops for eternity,
and my shoulders carry
the responsibilities
I still must fulfil.
I am alright.
But my body is a temple
for all the fallen leaves
I have buried
beneath the years.
I’m doing just fine.
But a moment
feels like a century
of battling myself,
and I keep bleeding on shoulders
that were never mine.
Yes, I am fine.
Because that’s all
I have ever learned
how to say.
But I am tired,
scared,
Lonely,
and a fossil of every broken promise.
I am okay.
But my heart is aching,
my lungs are choked
by the air of others’ victories,
my eyes could water crops for eternity,
and my shoulders carry
the responsibilities
I still must fulfil.
I am alright.
But my body is a temple
for all the fallen leaves
I have buried
beneath the years.
I’m doing just fine.
But a moment
feels like a century
of battling myself,
and I keep bleeding on shoulders
that were never mine.
Yes, I am fine.
Because that’s all
I have ever learned
how to say.
Key Words : mental health, dead language, behind lies, emotions, poem, depressed, fallen leaves.
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I wrote this to capture the hidden weight behind the words “I’m fine.” This poem reflects the quiet contradictions of resilience — how those two words can be both a shield and a burden. It represents a place of vulnerability, weaving images of fossils, fallen leaves, and aching shoulders to reveal the truths we often bury beneath everyday language. For me, this poem, “I’m fine,” is not just a phrase but a dead language — something we repeat until it loses meaning, until it becomes a mask that hides our vulnerabilities. I hope to remind anyone reading this that they are not alone in their battles and that even silence carries stories worth telling.
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