Behind the Smile

Nobody knows the truth.

There’s more behind the smile

than what they see.

My pain is concealed,

hidden from the world,

tucked beneath laughter

and rehearsed replies.

I’ve learned how to wear calm

like a second skin,

to steady my voice,

to smile at the right moments,

to convince even myself

that I’m okay.

But when the lights go out,

the act ends.

The quiet becomes deafening,

and I’m left face-to-face

with everything I tried to bury.

The memories,

the fears,

the hollow ache that never fades.

When someone asks, “How are you?”

it’s just a reflex,

a polite nod to convention.

They don’t really want the truth.

They want easy answers,

a “good,”

a “fine,”

a “can’t complain.”

No one is prepared for,

“I’m hurting.”

So I keep the pain wrapped in silence.

It’s easier to pretend,

to let people believe

what they want to see.

No one looks twice

when you say you’re fine.

So I keep playing my part,

a practiced performance

of peace and poise.

Yet beneath it all,

my heart whispers for release,

to be seen,

to be understood,

to be real.

Because behind every smile

is a story untold,

a truth too heavy for the surface.

And maybe one day,

I’ll let the world see

what’s been hiding

beneath the mask.