We Laugh So They Don’t Ask

We laugh.
Loud.

On purpose.
On time.

So they
don’t ask.

"Are you okay?"
We nod.

Before
they finish.

Because truth
takes too long.

And no one
has time.

We send memes.
We type “LOL.”

But behind
the phone

silence.
Always silence.

We post
a picture.

Eyes bright.
Smile wide.

But the caption
never says,

“I almost gave up
last night.”

It never says,
“I’m tired of pretending.”

We walk
with others.

But our mind
far away.

Thinking.
Regretting.

Playing battles
we already lost.

We work.
We succeed.

And still
feel like nothing.

Because medals
don’t fix
what’s inside.

We keep busy.
Because stopping

means thinking.
And thinking

means falling.
So we run.

Through days.
Through weeks.

Through years
we barely remember.

We smile
in family photos.

Eat
at crowded tables.

But no one
notices

how quiet
we’ve become.

How we shrink
a little more
each week.

Some nights,
we cry quietly.

Into pillows.
Into silence.

Then wipe
and sleep.

And tomorrow
we laugh again.

Because that’s
what keeps

them
from asking.

And sometimes
we wish they would.

But we also
hope they won’t.

Because explaining
hurts too much.

So we keep
laughing.

So they
don’t ask.