Charged;
Defrauded;
Roaring with rage,
you hid in my
duct, hovering
a blanket over
you, closer
to my
vulnerable
left eye.—
You etched
a tear drop,
drowned in
silence.
Will you
ever let it
fall?

I overthink things
Both a blessing and a curse
Depends on the day.

A feeling
That over time turned into a word,
Being too far to reach.
Trying to reclaim it,
You get hurt,
Or hurt others,
For the tiniest feeling of power
That feels so wrong,
Yet so right.

Trying to regain control controls you.

I wear my grin like porcelain—
polished, perfect,
cracked beneath.

They see the shine,
not the spiderwebs
that threaten to split me clean.

I laugh on cue,
walk the line,
but every step feels like a dare—
will I break,
or bend again?

No one notices the hairline fault.
They only see
a masterpiece
that never asked
to be displayed.

But here’s the twist
they’ll never know:
I dropped the real me
years ago.