Hidden Depths

"How are you?" I smile, the words roll off my tongue,

"I’m fine," heavy like a stone in my throat,

each letter a burden I carry alone,

as if the truth would unravel the seams,

a casual check-in from a coworker,

but how do I explain the weight I bear?

The curve of my lips lies, and I feel it,

a flicker of doubt, the question that gnaws—

why must I wear this mask of contentment,

when inside, I am a storm waiting to break?

Beneath the surface, emotions churn,

each one a secret, a battle fought daily,

the hidden depths of my soul longing for light,

and still I nod, "I’m fine," as if that’s enough,

while all I crave is someone to see,

past the smile, past the mask, to the heart

that trembles, that knows there’s more beneath.