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I smile because it hurts to frown.
I laugh because it hurts to cry.
And now if I refuse to speak
It’s just because it hurts to lie.

I smile and it’s a work of art.
I laugh and it’s soliloquy.
My words and all my meanings too
Are improvised as comedy.

I smile but no one’s watching me.
I laugh but cannot hear my voice.
And looking out from emptiness
I lack the strength to make a choice.

I smile and I’m aware it hurts
I laugh and it’s my laugh that lies.
Alone and in my smiling trap,
I smile and yet my smile cries.

- written on the mirror in the bathroom of an expensive New York hotel.

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