I might have to teach myself to smile again. I will practice in the mirror each night before I go to bed. I’ll smile and my teeth will hold back the sea of words I’ve yet to speak. Strangers will see me smile at reflections and think “how arrogant” when it’s my only tactic to avoid crying when forced to recognize my own existence.

I might have to teach myself to smile again. Mama and Daddy taught me when I was little, but they seem to have forgotten the lesson as well. So it seems I will have to teach myself.

I might have to teach myself to smile again. I care more about other’s sanity than my own and I want them to believe they are kind and funny. And I don’t want them to ask about me, because then I will cry and have to start my lesson all over again.

I might have to teach myself to smile again. That way waiters and teachers and the man at the bus stop won’t spew advice on how to lead a fulfilling life. And I won’t have to lie and say I’ll try it, when I know I’ve tried it all a million times.

I might have to teach myself to smile again. If I don’t force myself to do it, I’m afraid it will never happen again