I love my incapability to cry but the ability to burn inside and flame on the outside,how I let my eyes redden without having to shed a tear and clench my fists without necessarily punching anything, I am learning.
I admire how I can’t argue with him when he breaks the deadliest of news but fight with myself for the mistakes only I, know made.I am composed
I love how I can afford a smile between bitter tears,then I know how strong I am.I start conversations and hang out when I should be sulking and pitying my situation,maybe I should be hanging out.
I love how I go silent in the middle of a talk and patiently repeat that I’m fine each time they continuously ask how I am.
I sigh at how I dream big and not know how to fulfill it but somehow know that I will actualize everything I ever visualized.
I wonder how I manage to lift myself up when I fall into the dark pits of pain and sorrow,with my ego and pride not letting me seek help, with my soul not allowing me to portray pain.
I don’t know how I smile when what I really want to do is scream my heart out, jump out of a storey building’s window and fill my lungs with air so that they know what it feels like not to feel again.