strong Tears
This smile you see—
it’s not real,
it’s a weapon.
A mask I wear
so you never get the satisfaction
of watching me break.
My tears?
They’re not weakness—
they’re fire,
and I’d rather burn alone
than let you watch me drown.
I don’t show pain
to people who crave it,
who dress their cruelty
as sympathy.
So I smile—
harder, colder, louder—
until it cuts through you,
until it hurts to look at me.
I have no one.
Never did.
Just me—
turning every tear
into something you’ll never touch,
never understand.
--by ~𝓳𝓲𝓪
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