laughter: a mask
and a medicine for his pain. they pay him no mind.
to them ,
he is barely a person, a tool. his
flesh melts into metal, his arms levers, his face flat and featureless.
he mocks his fears and flaws,
his pain,
secretly hoping that
will make them
a mere joke,
a fantasy.
it fails, it always fails, but the smiley faces stenciled on his exoskeleton
of reassurance of his state of mind
are still there.
so he clatters on, joking, grinning,
his laughter his mask and his medicine.