Smile.
“I’m fine.”
Smile.
“Just tired.”
Smile.
“oh, sorry, I’ve been busy.”
Smile.
Smile.
Smile.

It’s funny,
isn’t it?
How hard it is to tell the difference
between a smile

and a grimace.

It’s funny,
isn’t it?
How people are so willing
to swallow a lie,
If it’s what they want to hear,

And you’re baring your teeth.

you look into his eyes
and only see brown.
you laugh and joke
about how this
makes him
“full of ****.”
but,
when i look into his eyes,
i see so much more.
this boy has been hurt,
hurt by so many people.
tears hide back behind
because if he ever showed
anyone
his emotions,
he’d be ridiculed.
this boy is sad.
he’s lives a life
that he doesn’t want to live,
but pretends that
he is in control.
this boy
is not what everybody thinks.
when i first met him
i was intimidated.
he gives off a vibe
that he is
indestructible.
get to know him.
you will see what i mean.
i’ve comforted this boy
while he cried,
which i’ve only seen once.
i’ve been by his side
for everything,
through hell and back.
this boy has so much pain,
so much sadness,
so much agony.
but he also has so much love.
he just doesn’t know
what to do with it.

i wrote you
a letter every day
letters to tell you
just how i feel

written in neat, curved
writing i told you
just how sweet
i thought you were
how you made my heart
glow

letters in which i wrote
with various colors of ink
pouring out my whole being
to you

i wrote you
a letter every day.

i wrote you letters in which
i told you how you made me
bloom.

eventually
i found myself
pressing harder on
the paper
than i had before.

creating tears in them
similar in shape
and size
as the ones
inside of me.

i began to send
letters
with creases
and bumps
and stains
splattered with tears

pouring
from my eyes

as i wrote
the anger
bubbling within me.

my last letter
addressed to you
contained
no words

but was blank.
because
i had none that

could reach
as far

and deep

into the cracks
of my
heart

to describe
just
what you

had left
of me.

I don't talk
about you anymore
like I used to

Before,
I would speak of you
to anyone and everyone in my life,
sharing pieces of you with others
so much that people started wondering
if there was something between us.
It was never intentional
but rather an involuntary response
to the pull of gravity I felt towards you.

I used to like the way
your name sounded in my tongue
I used to practice uttering it
and whispering nothingness into your ears.

I used to say your name
like it was sacred

but now it has become taboo
to even think of your name
Every time it comes up in my mind
I have to hit the mental brakes,
I no longer mention you
to anyone else
it's like you do not even exist,
never did -
you are just the ghost of a name
that resides somewhere in my head,
collecting dust.