Smiling
My smile is a retaliation.
To everyone else’s anger.
Smiling, and it’s harsh, and it hurts me, but it hurts them more.
Even if they’re still yelling…
Even if the yelling gets louder…
My smiling is like a forcefield.
So that I hear them less and less.
The argument becomes more distant.
And they leave and I hope they hate me.
Smiling, and never crying.
Smiling, and looking in the mirror.
And my face haunts me.
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