Hello, stranger

I love your smile

like you do my poetry

but why look so troubled?


I was just expressing my vile

instead of staying in denial

but you disagree

You want a better version of me


“We know people lie.

They hurt and make us cry,”

you say as we sit down for a while.

“I know you’re angry.

You almost scare me.”


“Then what do you want?”

I ask

with an eyebrow raised.


“Bring your joy next time around.

I know you can.

If you may, fake one,”

is all his next statement.


How do I tell him

that I’m done pretending

I’m always happy

like they always want me to be?


Dear stranger,

you’re looking at a tired poser

I know you mean well,

but your request feels like a torture


As usual,

I always know what they want

With a smile,

I give him another same lie:


“I’ll try.”



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