#article
I Smiled Through It All—But I Was Falling Apart Inside
There’s a version of me everyone knew.
The one who laughed easily.
The one who showed up.
The one who always seemed… fine.
That version of me was convincing.
Maybe too convincing.
Because no one ever asked if I was okay.
---
It’s strange how easy it is to hide pain.
Not by lying…
…but by functioning.
By doing what’s expected.
By replying messages on time.
By showing up to places with a steady voice and a calm face.
You learn how to wear “I’m fine” like it’s part of your identity.
And after a while, people stop questioning it.
---
But what they don’t see…
is the silence after everything.
---
They don’t see the moments when the noise fades and it’s just you and your thoughts.
They don’t see how heavy your chest feels when you finally sit still.
They don’t hear the conversations you have with yourself late at night—
the ones filled with doubt, regret, and questions that never get answered.
---
I became an expert at holding things in.
Not because I wanted to…
but because I didn’t know where to put them.
---
You try to speak once… maybe twice.
And when people don’t really listen—
or they respond with surface-level words—
you start to feel like opening up is pointless.
So you stop.
---
And that’s how it begins.
---
You start dealing with everything alone.
The pressure.
The confusion.
The expectations.
You carry it quietly.
So quietly that even the people closest to you don’t notice how much you’re holding.
---
And the scary part?
You get used to it.
---
You get used to smiling when you don’t feel like it.
Used to saying “I’m good” without thinking.
Used to pushing through days that feel heavier than they should.
---
But pain doesn’t disappear just because it’s hidden.
It waits.
It builds.
It stretches itself into every corner of your life.
---
Until one day…
you feel it all at once.
---
Not in a dramatic breakdown.
Not in a way people would immediately notice.
But in a quiet moment where everything suddenly feels like too much.
---
You sit there…
and for the first time in a long time, you don’t have the energy to pretend anymore.
---
That moment is terrifying.
Because it forces you to face something you’ve been avoiding:
You’re not okay.
---
And for a while, I didn’t know what to do with that truth.
---
I had spent so much time being “strong” that I didn’t even know how to be honest with myself.
I didn’t know how to sit with my own emotions without trying to fix or ignore them.
---
But slowly… I started learning.
---
Not how to be perfect.
Not how to have everything figured out.
But how to be real.
---
I started admitting when I was tired.
Admitting when things hurt.
Admitting when I didn’t have the answers.
---
And something unexpected happened.
---
The weight didn’t disappear overnight…
but it became easier to carry.
---
Because I wasn’t fighting myself anymore.
---
I wasn’t pretending to be okay just to make others comfortable.
I wasn’t hiding behind a version of myself that didn’t exist.
---
I was just… being.
---
And that’s something we don’t talk about enough.
---
We praise strength.
We admire people who “hold it together.”
But we rarely talk about the cost of always being the strong one.
---
The truth is—
Strength isn’t always loud.
Sometimes, it looks like admitting you’re struggling.
Sometimes, it looks like slowing down when everything in you wants to keep running.
Sometimes, it looks like choosing honesty over image.
---
So if you’ve been smiling through everything…
If you’ve been carrying more than people realize…
If you’ve mastered the art of looking okay when you’re not—
---
You’re not alone.
---
And more importantly…
you don’t have to keep pretending.
---
You don’t have to have everything figured out.
You don’t have to be strong all the time.
You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.
---
It’s okay to pause.
It’s okay to feel.
It’s okay to be human.
---
Because at the end of the day…
being real will always be more powerful than being perfect.
---
And maybe…
just maybe…
the moment you stop pretending—
is the moment you finally start healing.
©® Coker Favour A.
May 8
May 8, 2026 at 2:33 AM UTC
i don't know it's a show
i'm a **** and a macho
most liquid form of a nacho
and if you don't read that poem
it blackstreetly remains poem
no articles necessary
look: my curses vary ms. berry
ain't no curses necessary
but my necessities vary:
peeing loving being feeling
i'm a breed of dog and buddy
when you see me on the street; ermh
i can't beat the street it's nothing
indifference is requirement
i get never tired man
writing these poems:
20 a day
140 a week
come over stay and read
i just stopped to feed
writer's block
but it's cool dial
1-800-writers-mob
this stuff ain't fun
cause it's just a pun
this stuff ain't a pun
it's like purple in a raindrop
my first name is mainshock
last name will be morlock
have a good one baby
say hello to tizzop
Feb 19, 2020
Feb 19, 2020 at 4:15 PM UTC
Father was
Rama Rally
now his
hair was
haze in
phase of
their new
found praise
the avatar
has shape
of America
with continental
to encircle
globe with
a sense
of purpose
yet today
Dec 5, 2019
Dec 5, 2019 at 11:07 AM UTC
Sometimes we get lost in our desires.
We lose in the curtains of emotions.
We become slaves to desires.
The charm of life is lost and we live for the glamor ...
We begin to live day after day searching for the remedy of deception.
Many believe in pain and few in love ...
We sacrifice our minds for temporary pleasure.
Satisfying our desires can sometimes be dangerous.
Sometimes we get into a maze with no way out because of childish desires and whims.
Humanity has an internal hunger for success and greed
But not always what we want and really what we need.
I introduce you to a world full of rot.
A world where colors do not shine.
Where everyone seems to be happy with the things they bought.
Where the only satisfaction is ***
Where many fall
In a cold and emotionless place.
Where many have become two in one.
Where many need lots of makeup to hide the wrong choices.
In a land of monsters and gods, in a dream-thirsty land, I saw people selling dreams and faith in exchange for glory.
In return for what they thought was happiness.
They sold the soul for pleasure.
Desire was dope he commanded the soul.
Many people no longer knew if they were in the real world or were in an imaginary world.
Every night, every weekend, all the laughter, all the wine was different ...
Sometimes we want things that we really can not have.
We confuse dreams and desires.
The power, money, fame more without space for love.
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 5:19 AM UTC
From the BBC today,
Excerpt
Why does Taylor Swift write so many one-note melodies?
"It's easy to get distracted by her celebrity, but Taylor Swift is a once-in-a-generation songwriter. From the very beginning, she's displayed a knack for melody and storytelling that most artists never master.
Take, for example, her first US number one, OUR SONG
Written for a high school talent show, it's a fairly typical tale of teenage romance until the final lines: "I grabbed a pen / And an old napkin / And I wrote down our song."
That's smart, self-assured songwriting for someone who wasn't old enough to vote. Notably, the lyrics insert the musician directly into the narrative - something she developed into a tried and tested trope.
But Our Song also establishes another of Taylor's trademarks: The one-note melody.
Excerpt
Repetitive melodies that centre around a single note are part of that appeal. They emphasise her relatability by mimicking the cadence of speech.
"They emphasise her relatability by mimicking the cadence of speech."
"They emphasise her relatability by mimicking the cadence of speech."
"They emphasise her relatability by mimicking the cadence of speech."
Rebuttal
Rhyme sells because the people you are selling too can remember your lyrics. They can relate to your song but if they cannot sing it themselves putting themselves in the 'first-person perspective narrative' they cannot feel as-if they have BECOME the artist and are living that moment as they remember it. Taylor Swift sings about teenage love and angst something EVERYONE ON EARTH understands.
ALL POETRY BEGAN AS RHYME IN SONG.
Cadences are singing statements that confer a discipline and unity.
Song acts as a catharsis. The artist shares their pain in a way that is universally understood. If you want to sell a rock, literally a pebble, you will not sell it if it doesn't look like a rock. If it doesn't do what rocks do. If it is not what people remember a rock to be like. Nor will it sell if it is just like every other rock they have ever seen. It cannot convey an emotion unless it elicits emotion.
One cannot even begin to feel emotional if one cannot remember easily the past and that includes lyrics one has heard that evoked said emotional state.
It is horrifying to see HOW BADLY EVERYONE INSISTS that rhyme be obliterated in exchange for an intellectual or individual perspective NOT SHARED BY THE MAJORITY OF PEOPLE.
If you want to sell and make money you better start thinking about the 99% of people who are not geniuses.
If your sole goal in life is to attract a genius to give you a great job because of how, "smart," they perceive you to be then fine.
You are not an artist.
You are an employee.
"Rhyme sells because the people you are selling too can remember your lyrics."
"Rhyme sells because the people you are selling too can remember your lyrics."
"Rhyme sells because the people you are selling too can remember your lyrics."
Thrice Times Great. ⁻ᴴᵉʳᵐᵉˢ
BECOME
EVERYONE ON EARTH
ALL POETRY BEGAN AS RHYME IN SONG
HOW BADLY EVERYONE INSISTS
NOT SHARED BY THE MAJORITY OF PEOPLE
HOW BAD
artist?
or employee?
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 10:29 AM UTC
under naked moonlight
my eyes had deceived me
my mind has tortured
me
for
years
she took my breath away
her black dress
on
an
concrete smile
she styled me
as she
danced for me
?
...
..
.
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 1:54 PM UTC
As he'd flip his hat
his ties have shone
though quaint in fact
just belied and bade
his call of freedom yet
his mapping afield where
he'd belay topography
and his harmony too
with hint of something new
even enticed quite averse
that hastened to implore
he cherished that linen
more refined in his attire
as he must wear it again.
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 7:57 PM UTC
जेखाय आरो खबाया बर'फोरनि जरासे आयजेँ
बर'फोरा बेखौ औवाजोँ बानायो
जेखाया खुगा गुवार महरनि
आरो लानजाइ बादि देन्था गोनां
बे देन्थायावनो आखायखौ हमगोन
ना गुरनाय समाव जेखायजोँ लोगोसे
दिरुं दोँसे थाफायो
ना गुरनायाव बर' आयजोफोरा
जेखायजोँ लोगोआव लाफायो खबाय
बिसोर ना गुरनाय समाव
गावसोरनि जानजियाव खाना लायो
आरो जेखायजोँ ना हायखांना मोन्नायखौ
खबायाव सोना लायो
जोङो जेखाय होनना बुंब्ला
खबायनि मुंखौनो थाब गोसो खांफायो
अदेबानि बेयो थारदि
जेखायनि मुंखौल' गोसोखांनानै
खबायखौ गोसो खाङा लाबानो थानो हाया
बर'फोरहा जेसेबां संसार जानायाव
मुंख'नो गोनां आयजेँफोर दं
बैफोरनि गेजेराव जेखाय आरो खबायनि मुंआबो मख' गोनां
आथिखालाव जेखाय खबायजोँ ना गुरनाया
खम जालांबाय
जानो हागौ बिनि जाहोना
1. होँगो-दोँगो नानि अनजिमाया सेंलांनाय
2. दैमा-दैसानि दैया मेसेँआव थाब थाब रानलांनाय
3. गोबां नाखौ खेबसेनो मोन्नो हास्थायना मुलि होनाय
4. इलेकट्रिक मोब्लिबनि गेजेरजोँ ना हमनाय
5. सोदोमस्रि गुस्लायनाय लोगो लोगोनो
बर' हिनजावफोरनि गोरबोआव लाजिनाय फैबाय
मानोना ना गुरग्रा मानसिखौ आथिखालाव गोरिब थाखोआव दोननो लुबैयो
दिनै बर'फोरा हारिमुनि आयजेँ महरै
मोसानाय एबा मेलाफोराव
जेखाय आरो खबायखौ दिन्थियो
मानोना बर'फोरा गावनि असे सोदोमस्रि हारिमु दं।
============
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 4:59 AM UTC
बर'नि गिबिसिन लाइसि 'बिबार' ओँखारनायनि बोसोरसे सिगां इं 1923 मायथायाव रुपनाथ ब्रह्म आरो मदाराम ब्रह्मआ जथायै सुजुना दिहुनदोँमोन।
बिजाबखौ गेदेमा गुरुदेब कालिचरण ब्रह्मनि मुंआव बावनाय जादोँमोन।
खन्थाइ आरो मेथाइजोँ जथायनाय बे 'खन्थाइ-मेथाइ' बिजाबा गांसे फिसा महरनि।
बेयाव साबा खनथाइगिरिनि खनथाइफोर दं।
बिसोर खनथाइगिरिफोरा जाबाय फारियै-
रुपनाथ ब्रह्म, मदाराम ब्रह्म, सतिश चन्द्र बसुमतारी,
सुरेन्द्रनाथ ब्रह्म आरो रथिराम ब्रह्म।
खन्थाइ-मेथाइ बिजाबा फिसा बिजाब थेवबो आबुं बिजाब होनना बुंनो नांगोन।
खनथाइ आरो मेथाइ मोननै बाहागोआव रान्नाय बे बिजाबआव दं दोँगु........
.......
फिसा महरनि ओँखार गिबि बर' बिजाबनि माखासे खनथाइ आरो मेथाइनि सानस्रिफोरा जाबाय-
: गसाइनि अबंलावरिखौ आर'ज गाबनाय।
: बोसोन होनाय एबा हारि फोजाखांनाय।
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 7:44 AM UTC
Dicen que la vida es corta, pero depende de tu perspectiva de vista.
Unos viven la vida ajetreados, agonizando por querer que todo sea completado en un lapso de tiempo. Otros, simplemente dejan que los minutos pasen, viven cada momento de acuerdo a su reloj anatómico, sin prisa alguna. Yo creo que todos debemos tener una lista, sí, una lista de aquellas cosas que te gustarían hacer, clasificadas por las "posibles" y por las que "parecen ser imposibles". Aclaro, nada es imposible... Solo hay que trabajar más duro para alcanzarlas. Muchos, andan creando una vida según sus ideales, pretendiendo que será perfecta, pero nada lo es. Viven encerrados en una burbuja necesitada de una pequeña grieta, sí, una grieta que comenzará a marcar el futuro que los espera en el mundo real una vez su encerrona culmine.Nada es perfecto, eso hay que tenerlo en mente. Habrán días gozosos, llenos de sucesos inesperadamente increíbles, días en los que todo te habrá salido tal y como lo esperabas, le sonreirás hasta al anciano que ves en el estacionamiento, o al niño que está sosteniendo la mano de su madre, cantarás tu canción favorita y bailarás sin cesar.. y lo mencionarás como "El mejor día de tu vida." ¿Quién no ha hecho eso? Sin embargo, habrán otros días en los que sientes que tu cielo se torna gris, pasas por alguna desepción, te sientes mal humarado, tu familia o colegas no te entienden, todo te sale mal, sientes el deseo de gritar, pero te niegas, a veces utilizas el término "desearía desaparecer en estos momentos"... A ese, a ese día lo llamarás de la manera más espeluznante que se te ocurra en el instante, solo para refutar y acentuar lo mucho que lo odiaste. Ahora, pienso yo, ¿por qué a ese día no lo llamas "el mejor de tu vida", al igual que aquellos que parecen haber estado moldeados por ángeles divinos? Piénsalo, ese pudo haber sido "el mejor día de tu vida", pero no te diste la tarea a creerlo. Te encerraste en el hecho de que sentías que todo recaía sobre ti y no te sentaste un momento a pensar que "todo pasa por una razón", como recita el conocido dicho. De eso que te quejas, de esos días tan repugnantes, es cuando más uno aprende. ¿Qué tendría la vida de divertida si todo nos sale "perfecto"? Sea larga o sea corta, hay que aprender a desearla, tanto como esos que no saben si en cualquier segundo pasan a morar. Selecciona cuál es la mejor opción para ti, no para los demás. Ante nubes grises y estruendosas lluvias, resalta un arcoiris que te da esperanza y te enseña que cada día es una nueva oportunidad para alcanzar aquello que hayas anotado en tu lista, sea larga o sea corta, te haya ido bien en el día o "no". Para de quejarte; comienza a disfrutar y a aprender de todos los ángulos y verás que, al final, cuando las generaciones hayan crecido, tendrás la dicha de contarlo y mencionarlo como uno de "Los mejores días de mi vida"
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 8:44 PM UTC
Walking down the wet pavement was a tall, young man in a black, silk yukata robe with matching leather shoes, spandex half-mask and large, opaque umbrella with a round, wooden handle.
One could say that he was posing as a sharp-dressed samurai without a sword; that he was eager to recreate the experience of a samurai strolling through his ancient hometown. But there were no cherry blossoms falling on his umbrella, only heavy raindrops.
In fact, raindrops have been falling on his umbrella ever since he purchased it from one of his favorite clothes department stores. Back then, he used to carry it with him whenever he wore his favorite grey, cotton trench coat and navy-blue jeans in the rain.
One may mistake him for a chameleon changing his colors once a day or a piano ballad shifting tempo and style with each verse; maybe even a cottage with lights flashing at different speeds like sweet turning sour in the blink of an eye.
Regardless of it all, he would always carry his trustworthy, respectable umbrella and count on it to keep him dry even in the heaviest of downpours.
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 6:52 PM UTC