I'm Fine

I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine.
I say it in my head again.
Again. 
Out loud. 
But just above a whisper.
Repeat it again in the shower. 
It gets  lost in the melody.
Mixing in the steam in the background. 
Back to the head for shaving and teeth. 
Master of using the mirror,
without ever quite looking at myself. 
By now I'm remembering you again. 
It comes and it goes. 
Like a cough like a sneeze like a seizure. 
Like a moth to a flame. 
                                         Or a maybe an addict. 
A bit louder because somewhere,
something lights across my synapses
A face, a laugh, a kiss, a memory. 
I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine. 
Faster. 
Both because I'm late.
And because I'm fearfully close.
Close to that razor fine edge of
put together and hot mess. 
I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine.
Keys and gone into the day. 
I'll wander the streets. 
Because I hope if I listen. 
I will hear you too
I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine.