Head On

My broken voice cracks painfully as I scream for someone, anyone to hear me. But my voice only echos back at me, reminding me no one can hear me, no one is coming.

A stranger passes by me, nodding their head and smiling politely, and I do the same, clouding my eyes with fake happiness and masking my face in that familiar fake smile. But behind that smile, I scream louder than I have before, my throat croaking, my voice giving out, and still the stranger walks by, not once glancing back.

No one can hear me, my screams ringing meaningless. So, my mask slides off like butter, leaving my sunken, lonely eyes on display for everyone to see. And as the next passerby comes my way, I don’t smile or nod in their direction. I keep my eyes plastered forward, my jaw set tight. And march head on.

The inner me shrivels into a ball and cowers in the corner, her body heaving violently as she sobs.

But I push her into the depths of my mind, further and further until I no longer remember she’s there, and I march head on.