Nobody Wants the Truth

Nobody Wants the Truth

I say I’m breaking,

but they turn the conversation

to the weather,

or what they had for tea.

I mention the noise in my head,

and they smile,

nodding like I spoke about

a dream they’ve never lived.

I scream in plain words,

but they hear silence,

because it’s easier

to pretend I never spoke.

They like me quiet,

fixed,

fine,

holding their world together,

while mine falls through the cracks.

I could carve my pain in letters,

bleed it out in lines,

but they’d scroll past,

double-tap,

forget.

Truth’s ugly,

messy,

real,

and nobody wants it

on their doorstep

in the morning light.

So I wear their smile,

bite down my storm,

and let them sleep,

safe in the lie

that I’m okay.