Some days, my heart feels heavy, slow,
A weight too deep for words to show.
But in the mirror, I catch my gaze,
And force a smile through weary haze.
It’s not for others, not for me,
It’s just a habit, set to be.
A curve, a mask, a fleeting grace,
A shield I wear to hide my place.
The world may never know the ache,
The quiet storm that I can’t shake.
But still, I smile, through cracks of doubt,
A small resistance, letting light out.
And maybe, just maybe, in this fight,
The smile will turn the dark to light.
So, I’ll wear it though I might not feel,
For in that curve, I’ll start to heal.
