Sorry to tell you,
but this smile has been broken
in five-thousand-and-one places.
These bruises have been camouflaged
by foundation and years of practice.
I could tell you a thousand-and-one lies
but you’d still render me “charming” and “adorable”.
What’s a strategy to charming other than
to seem sweet and endearing?
What’s the method to adorable other than
to smile and open your eyes wide?
The biggest disaster of my life is me.
The biggest mistake she had was keeping me.
I fall apart at the seams,
I’m needing some stitching up,
or maybe I’ll just camouflage over the scars.
You may think I’m being overly dramatic,
but when I talk about the ghosts,
they know I still exist,
just as I wonder about them,
they know I exist,
yet I don’t cross a single mind.
(I just wish this disaster wasn’t so heavy-handed
and it didn’t have a flair for the dramatics.
These nights are lonely when the only company
is a fountain pen and trusty notebook.)
I try to fight the disasters,
try to remember the beauty,
we have to immolate the rose
to see the true beauty.
Because sometimes the scars are camouflaged.
The laughter faked,
the smiles broken in places like a Chelsea grin.