The Smile


A smile is just another kind of lie
A practiced mask behind which we hide
We laugh, we grin with a bright face
Behind which are things we’d rather erase.

It is merely another falsity
A mocking oath on the altar of travesty
The curve of a lip hides, more often than not, pain
And suffering rather than joy, endured disdain.

What exists behind a smile is quite varied
Maybe a depressed soul to whom we pay no heed.
“She’s smiling, she’s all right ” is what we think
When in reality, she’s broken, barely balanced on the brink.

It could be someone you think you truly know
The happiest one, the loudest, though
Behind the stage curtains something else lies
Silent screams, razor cuts and bloodshot eyes.

She appears perfectly content and happy
But the cracks lie under the surface unseen
Her fractured thoughts and hopeless cries
For someone to notice her, to save her, to try.

“I’m fine, I’m okay,” she protests when you ask
Simply words- the feelings within to mask
She’s out of control, both abuser and victim
Everyday fast approaching her own requiem.

Look past that glimmering smile to see the scars
That lie on her heart and body before she falls too far
For some steps once taken, certain opened doors
Cannot be closed and may mean she is forever no more.

So be more aware and be more kind
For you never know what wounds you might not see but may find.
Us sad folk are not so easily seen
For we wear smiles of blood and shattered dreams.

– Kaavya Karthikeyan

Image source


I woke up today,
with an heart almost broken,
Bleeding tears through every crack left open,
My soul feels ice cold, and there’s voices in my head,
Silently screaming all at once,I don’t know if I’m alive or if I’m dead,

Everyday feels worse, I can’t keep my eyes open,
Everytime I shut them down, nightmares awaken,
I feel pain and I feel numb, paralyzed but shaken,
Hateful eyes spitting venom, my safe places all forsaken,

Will anybody miss me? Will anybody care?
Will they even notice when I’m no longer there?
I feel invisible, I’m choking on myself,
My mind feels claustrophobic like it’s crushing on itself,

It’s hard to go to bed, and It’s hard to wake up,
Like a dog without his bone, I feel lost and all alone,
I want somebody to know, I want somebody to care,
But I’m too afraid being judged, when I leave my feelings bare,

All my tears feel like acid, My voice is always broken,
I just want to see, a Human Being being human.

Just another cut, Just another scratch,
“What’s that little mark?” “No, that was just my cat”
Just another excuse, Just another lie,
“You wear bracelets now?” “Just fashion, why?”
Just another tear, Just another scream,
“Vishal, were you crying?” “No, Just had a bad dream”
It’s not just a cut, or a tear or a lie,
It’s always just one more, till the day that I die.

– Vishal Muralidharan