Emotions bottled up never to be found
Walls built out of pain and sorrow
Fear cementing them together
To avoid breaking what likely needs torn down
Hidden away, maybe forever,
All the torment and struggle and strife
Anger and sadness pushed down to the surface
Anxieties blooming right and left behind the bleak walls
And excuses forged new each day
To explain to the world how I'm fine
I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm fine!
No struggle inside me!
Not hiding behind lies of self-deceit
Not pushing myself down beneath my own sense of defeat
Not dying inside waiting for the rest of me to die in peace
Not waiting for a hero to save the day
Not pretending I'm okay so no one will worry about me
For I don't need them to worry
I don't need them to help me
I'm fine.

The fire may burn, but at least I'm not breaking.
The inner battles hurt, but I'm not really dying.
The anxieties weigh heavy, but it could be worse.
So to answer your question, I'm fine.