What's wrong?

My forehead creases to form a ravine

Where all my anxieties travel

down

To rest

Against the bridge of my nose.

I can never hide my thoughts,

Always asked,

'What's wrong?'

Oh,

Only everything,

I think…

Of course, I don't say this aloud

But smile, and force my face to unfurl

Placid, serene,

A momentary tremor

That breaks way into

solid ground.

'Nothing,' I chirp,

And all is well again

(On the surface).

)()(

These same lines

Run through my sister,

My mother,

Through all of us

Who worried, and raged,

And smiled

While we smothered and

smoothed over

With creams, and lotions,

Words of comfort

And hidden streams.

We break ourselves

So others can't see

Our fears,

But the cracks they form

Only

grow

Deeper.

)()(

We take

And take

And take on

More than we were

Meant to bear

We stuff our own selves

Until it blunts us.

We put their wants

Before our needs

Still they say,

'What's wrong?'

As if the damage wasn't already done,

As though they

Didn't know

What was asked of us;

These supposed narrow shoulders

That are meant to carry

Mountains, moons, solar systems.

)()(

We're made of

more than sandstone

Forged in fires,

Igneous.

We are starstuff,

We don't crumble.

Impact

And solidify.

(Although sometimes,

I'll admit,

A rest

Might be nice.)