Not today

she wore pain like perfume

not because she liked it,

but because it clung to her

no matter how many showers

she cried in.

there were days

when her body whispered

“not today.”

and days

when her heart screamed

“not anymore.”

but no one saw

the wars behind her eyes

only the smile

she stitched together

like armor

out of fear

they’d leave

if they saw the truth.

chronic is such a quiet word

for something

that never stops

screaming.