I Laughed So You Wouldn't Ask

They said
I was funny.
Said I lit up
every room.

But no one asked
what it cost me
to shine.

No one asked
why my eyes
never matched
my smile.

They laughed
at my jokes
not knowing
each one
was a scream
dressed in rhythm.

I learned
it’s easier
to make them laugh
than explain
why I cry
when I’m alone.

So I told stories
that bent the truth,
wore masks
so well
I forgot
what my real face
looked like.

But jokes fade.
Crowds leave.
And the quiet
it returns,
heavier
than ever.

I’m tired
of laughing
just to survive.
Tired
of being the sun
while breaking
in the dark.

One day,
maybe someone
will hear the ache
beneath my laughter
and stay.