Fallacy Poem by Stella Sisanda Qishi

from long and bumpy rides
i turned to solitude,
ensconced in false pretences,
wearing a smile every morning
like a piece of cloth or some traditional
hide cut out from a sacrificial cow
fooling some killjoys, mitigating
the gashes of wounds they've opened
in my heart
and pose unfazed, completely nonchalant

i've tried letting go of the shadow
but the shadow wouldn't let go of me
to their unbeknown they say
i inherited my uncle's smile
unaware that i had long mourned ]
the death of my inner self