Fine

"How are you?"
"Fine."
Fine?
Fine?
I didn't realize 'fine'
Meant crying at night,
While listening to your parents fight
In the next room over,
Hearing their voices rise in anger,
Then fall in silent rage,
While the tears slip down your cheeks.

Fine?
I didn't know 'fine' was when
You lived your life
Not knowing where the next meal came from,
Hoping there would be food,
When you got home,
Praying
Tonight would be the last night
Of hunger
And the first night
Of happiness.

You're fine?
I'm sorry,
I didn't think that 'fine'
Meant your life was a broken down house,
Full of promises
You're still waiting to see fulfilled,
Full of dreams
You desperately hope will come true.

"How are you?"
"Good."
Says the girl
Whose makeup covers the pain
From the insults,
Taunts and
Names
Drawn across her face,
Like a knife drawn against soft flesh.

"Good."
Says the boy
Who has everything but happiness,
Whose parents' dreams for him
Stretch to the sky in their minds,
Hell in his.
His dreams are labelled as failure,
Insignificant,
Not important,
Stupid.

"Good."
Says the teen,
Whose white and red scars marked
On his arm
Stretch from his body
To his mind.
His value,
Nothing.
His status,
Nothing.
His dreams,
Nothing.
He wants to be
Nothing.
He doesn't even want to be here anymore.

"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just tired."
No,
'Tired' is when you
Stayed up to late watching movies.
'Tired',
Is when you go to bed
At 3 am,
Just finished your assignment.
'Tired' is not
Living everyday numb,
Watching the world go by,
Not caring,
If you're there to see it.
'Tired' is not
Working so hard,
Trying desperately to prove
You're worth something,
Trying to show the world,
You're not what they called you
In high school.
Idiot.
Failure.
Screw-up.

"How are you?"
"Fine."
"Good."
"Just tired."

Lies.