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The Unbreakable Mask

sukriti_booktrovert
Thought

Thought

quick_gut_check

so the title says unbreakable, but the whole thing is about carrying invisible mountains and learning to hurt. how do those fit together for you?

so the title says unbreakable, but the whole thing is about carrying invisible mountains and learning to hurt. how do those fit together for you?

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The Mask Fits Too Well

 

I'm only thirteen—

they say that's too young

to know what breaking feels like.

 

So I smile.

 

I laugh at the right jokes,

say "I'm fine" before they ask,

and fold my storms

into pockets no one checks.

 

Some nights

my memories knock like thunder

on a house already shaking.

The past still remembers my name

even when I try to forget it.

 

They call me strong.

But strength isn't never crying.

It's carrying invisible mountains

to school every morning,

finishing homework

with hands that still tremble,

and choosing tomorrow

even when today feels heavy.

 

I wear happiness

like a borrowed sweater—

warm enough for everyone else,

never quite my size.

 

If you looked closely,

you'd see the cracks

filled with quiet courage,

the kind that grows

where flowers shouldn't.

 

Maybe healing

doesn't arrive all at once.

 

Maybe it starts

with one deep breath,

one sunrise,

one tiny spark whispering,

"You are still here."

And maybe that's enough.

Because I am thirteen.

 

Still learning.

Still hurting.

Still hiding.

 

But somehow,

still standing.

Thoughts

  • just_curious_tho

    the pockets no one checks line stuck with me. are those pockets for specific people to not find, or is it more like you fold it all away and hope nobody asks?

    Permalink
  • quick_gut_check

    so the title says unbreakable, but the whole thing is about carrying invisible mountains and learning to hurt. how do those fit together for you?

    Permalink
  • nodding_along

    when you say wearing happiness like a borrowed sweater, does that mean you *know* it doesn't fit? like you're aware the whole time you're doing it?

    Permalink

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The Mask Fits Too Well I'm only thirteen— they say that's too young to know what breaking feels like. So I smile. I laugh at the right jokes, say "I'm fine" before they ask, and fold my storms into pockets no one checks. Some nights my memories knock like thunder on a house already shaking. The past still remembers my name even when I try to forget it. They call me strong. But strength isn't never crying. It's carrying invisible mountains to school every morning, finishing homework with han

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