sometimes i am an eccedentesiast,
my smile hidden under layers of hope and agony, bronze and brazen against my skin.
then, the tears fall.
the liquid bronze seeps onto the floor, rolls down my cheeks.
the mask slips and gets washed away.
sometimes, we are all eccedentsiasts.
sometimes, we have to let go of our façades.
watch them smash under the oppressor's foot.
then, we will truly learn.
how to smile.
YOU ARE READING
3.2 | The End of Infinity
Poetrywe hide our inner pain behind smiles filled with hope. until, the hope evaporates and everything has g o n e . [poetry by a]
