My facial muscles settle
into their familiar lie—
a polite arrangement of skin
stretching into a practiced smile.
A ghastly grin,
stitched carefully across bone,
the mask I wear for daylight
so the world may see
a happy indifference.
They do not notice
how heavy it is.
Behind it,
something inside me ruptures—
silent and unseen—
as I weep tears of blood
that no one will ever wipe away.
And while they greet the mask
as if it were me,
the pain and the longing
tear through what remains
of the person beneath it
~S~
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