I smiled at the mirror today.
It cracked.
I didn't.
My cheeks ache.
not from joy,
But from rehearsal.
You said—
"You always look so happy."
I said—
"Yeah."
Because grief
scares the guests.
Sometimes
I laugh so I don't bite my tongue.
Sometimes
I bite it anyway.
I've cried in public
with my teeth showing.
They smiled back.
They think smiles mean peace.
Mine is a cage.
They see treaties.
Mine's a muzzle.
I want to scream,
but I've made a career
out of being okay.
You ever hold back a flood
just to keep someone else dry?
Yeah.
That.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem