what do you expect me to do?

come up to you, on my knees,

beg, cry, hold on to the fabric of

your ripped jeans, look

up at you,

eyes brimming with tears.

to fix whatever hole i left in you,

that i’ve left in myself.

what should i do, what can

i do,

when i can’t even say that

one word to those i’ve

touched.

sorry

that i can only say these words,

hiding behind an unreachable wall, where

the boundary of consequences are blurred

you see,

i am a coward, scared of what’s to come.

who am i to stand, to

face those who might hurt me.

some have said i am strong, that i can face and swallow

the pain; that i don’t break down.

laughable, how there are so many misunderstandings,

so many masks that people fall for in this world.

like my mask, a smile tattooed with bright colours,

decorated with a hand that reaches out to others, that

pats them on the back and

waves back. who am i to say that

one day this mask of mine won’t fall,

break so that that smile cracks

and that oh-so-loving hand falls back.

…

a warning to those who may

follow the same path as me.

there are many forks in this journey called life.

take one, take many, and stray far far away from

my road, filled with twists and turns and

cracks, repaired over and over, until

it can no longer be saved.