Scars and Smiles
I am a thread unraveling,
A song fading in the wind.
A paper boat on an endless sea,
Folding under waves I can’t control.
I am vulnerable,
Glass stretched thin,
Waiting for the shatter.
I break
More often than I dare to admit.
I break in silence,
Behind closed doors,
Where tears carve rivers
Through the deserts of my resolve.
Regrets hang like unfinished paintings,
Muted colors of choices left undone,
Of routes I feared to walk,
Of words I swallowed instead of spoke.
I write
Pieces, fragments, half-built worlds,
Never finding the courage to complete.
I am scared,
Insecure, undecided,
A pendulum swinging between what could be
And what I’ve lost.
But you don’t see this me.
I stitched together a mask,
Seamless and smooth,
Strong enough to shield your gaze.
It keeps me safe from your judgment,
From the weight of your expectations.
I smile,
A practiced craft,
A sunbeam on demand,
Lighting the room even as my own sky darkens.
I inspire,
I motivate,
I paint a picture of strength
While trembling beneath the brush strokes.
When I am at my lowest,
My mask crowns me king of a world
That doesn’t know my quiet chaos.
I give you what you want to see
And keep my truth locked away,
Its key hidden in the cracks of my own heart.
I confide in me,
For who else could shoulder this weight?
But confiding in me is lonely.
It feels like whispering into an empty canyon,
My voice echoing back, distorted and hollow.
Loneliness is a quiet thief,
Stealing pieces of me while I’m distracted,
Leaving gaps where certainty used to be.
I sit with it,
A shadow in a chair across the room,
Always there, always silent,
Yet louder than the crowd’s applause.
I am my own diary,
Unwritten pages worn thin with secrets.
I am the candle burning for no one,
Flickering against the wind of my own doubts.
I tell myself it’s enough.
That I can carry this,
That I can confide in me,
But sometimes,
Even the strongest masks crack.
And when they do,
They will see the storm.
The fragments of a human undone.
And whole all at once.
But in the stillness of my solitude.
I hear my truth.
And perhaps, in the echoes of this verse.
You might find yours too.
Copyright © Phred Sirikye | Year Posted 2024
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