I Laughed So You Wouldn't Ask

They said I was funny. Said I lit up every room. But no one asked what it cost me to shine. No one asked why my eyes never matched my smile. They laughed at my jokes not knowing each one was a scream dressed in rhythm. I learned it’s easier to make them laugh than explain why I cry when I’m alone. So I told stories that bent the truth, wore masks so well I forgot what my real face looked like. But jokes fade. Crowds leave. And the quiet it returns, heavier than ever. I’m tired of laughing just to survive. Tired of being the sun while breaking in the dark. One day, maybe someone will hear the ache beneath my laughter and stay.