By Manyata Sharma
My braid's falling apart
While I’m trying to hold on.
My glasses on the floor,
While my bruises remain sore.
Words are where it starts —
Your laugh tells it all.
It’s weird that I don’t find it funny;
In fact, my skin starts to crawl.
I see the look in your eyes —
That’s when my heart falls.
Why does it have to be at my expense?
You point out all my flaws.
“It’s just a joke,” you said.
Those words seemed so sincere.
I would’ve been fooled
If I wasn’t overwhelmed with fear.
You peel off every layer of my defense.
Do my tears bring out your conscience?
Why not choose to make someone’s day better than worse?
Do your insecurities start to emerge?
We both could relate —
That the effects of your words suffocate.
And it’s not just a joke
When your laughter doesn’t reciprocate.
There’s a burden on every shoulder,
So why not love, than hate?
You don’t know how I feel.
I know your “jokes” even make you afraid.
Regret doesn’t come until something is lost.
But it’ll never be as it once was.