Sometimes it’s best to feign strength, have others
compliment you on being the Strong One,
holding the title while your heart silently breaks
behind lying eyes.
The ultimate coping mechanism of pretending that you
have the strength to make it through the tough and
If only they knew,
that behind it all, pieces of you stretch tight and strain
against paper stitches, begging to fall apart,
begging to let go, just once.
There is danger in ripping those stitches,
fear behind the fresh wounds.
The facade of being a lioness, head up
against the world, waiting for what comes next.
Inside, you are a mouse in paper-mache clothes
hoping no-one asks to see the lion,
clinging to the title with tooth and fingernail.
the lion is the lie that you have learned to live
and not one that can easily be cast aside.
Inside you beats the heart of a mouse,
but that mouse believes he is a lion
and so, you are always the Strong One.