"Are you doing okay?" she asked with caring eyes.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I gave the oft repeated lies.
It was neither the place nor time,
To get into my sorrow, to make saline rivers sublime.
I'll tell the truth, should she again ask,
When we're homeward bound.
I'll tell her of how sometimes, behind my mask,
I feel I don't belong, I shouldn't be around.
Or perchance I'll let her choose:
Does she want the strong façade
Or the vulnerable truths?
The tender heart, or full bravade?
I won't say something she uttered was the trigger.
But she didn't ask, so I'll stand by my rigor.
Copyright ©️ 2024 H.K. Longmore
Musings of a Kunderian Monster 