I will be strong.
It matters not the punches I take,
the number of nights I spend alone crying,
the days I spend in fear.
The familiar taste of salted tears
cannot consume my day.
The waves of fear will not pull me down,
crashing about me,
dragging me out to sea.

I must be strong.
My peers will not see my pain.
My smile is a bandaid,
covering the fresh wounds beneath.
Nobody can afford to see my scars
for they are too horrific to bear.

I try to be strong.
Laughing with my friends
while slowly dying inside.
I can fool everyone.
It's almost an art,
tricking them into believing me,
how ignorant they are.

I am not strong.
I can't be strong.
Not anymore.