I'm happy. That's the lie I've told myself.
With a sinking feeling and a tightness in my chest
with a blank mind, I tell myself
I'm fine.
With a forced smile and a carefree laugh, I tell myself
you're a soldier; you'll be fine.
And, when I'm alone,
my mouth starts to quiver and my eyes string.
And, in my head, a quiet voice whispers.
you're not happy,
you're not okay.
You might be a soldier but,
the darkness you hide
has an army.
Yes. You might be a soldier, but
your demons are mercenaries
and, while you pretend
your darkness will kill you inside,
and, while you lie and say you're okay,
your demons shatter your mind.
YOU ARE READING
Chapters of Me
PoetryStruggling with depression, these poems are my late night thoughts and my internal cries. They are all the chapters of me.