tiny broken pieces and a faint memory of you

spiky smile-thirty four

I walked to the cranky road
and I saw you with a backpack on board
it was a pretty awkward situation,
but after all, you smiled

I thought the thought of me makes you vomit,
but I was proved wrong as to now.

I saw your spiky smile-
a smile laced with insecurity and tarnished vows
how I wished to wipe away the remnants of that smile,
for I don't like you giving me a fake one.

and to you who says that it isn't as that fake,
tell me,
is the image of you, hurting,
fake?
is the image of you crying,
because the world is not in your favor;
fake?

I would gladly see you never smile; than to show me off a torturous smile that encases the spikes that striked your fragile heart