I laugh—because it's easier than asking why,
Why their words cut deep though wrapped in a lie.
A joke, they say, just light and fun,
But the weight it carries can't be undone.

I laugh—though inside, I break,
Smiling through wounds I cannot fake.
They trade glances, their laughter loud,
While I shrink smaller beneath the crowd.

I laugh—but when I'm alone,
The echoes turn to a heavy stone.
Each word replays, each smirk, each glance,
Tearing apart my confidence.

I laugh—but I wish they'd see,
How their humor isn't light to me.
That sarcasm burns, that backhand stings,
That some jokes aren’t just simple things.

I laugh—but I cry at night,
Hiding my pain far from sight.
I hope one day they'll understand,
That kindness is never secondhand.