He tells everyone he’s fine
But always hopes someone will realize that he’s not.
He has bags under his eyes
from long, restless  nights.
He wants to sleep.
He wants to stop crying himself to sleep.
He wants his nightmares to end.
He wants to stop thinking about all the mistakes he has made.
But he can’t.
Instead, he is forced to choke back his tears all day
And let them fall when everyone else is asleep.
He has lost all motivation and interest
To do things he once loved to do
He feels lonely,
Even if he’s not alone.
Everyone thinks he’s fine
Because they don't see how broken he is
Or the emptiness in his constant smiles
Or the defeat in his hazel eyes
All they see is how “happy” he seems
And how happy he makes others.
No one can tell that he’s dying slowly.