In the comforting embrace of conversation, I find myself
questioning my true emotions, reflecting on all the places I've
wandered beneath the stars, where the moonlight gently caresses
my dark skin. Tears flow freely on this soft mattress, so many
tears I feel myself slowly sinking. As I once dreamt with
wide-open eyes in my youth, but as the years passed,
I must have forgotten how to actually cry.

The nightmares echo louder behind these closed eyelids,
leaving me to ponder the purpose of the night amidst my
restless daydreams. I find solace in the pool of my own
tears, indifferent to the fact that many days feel surreal.
My existence hinges on the authenticity of my joy-
  a joy discovered, instead of crafted by human hands.


I adjust my words, shifting the tone of my confidence.
As in another life, I emerged from the ocean, carrying
all the tears, that you’ll never get to see. I continue to wear
this mask of tears, hiding behind a facade that desperately
seeks to mirror a version of myself that remains elusive.