The Signs You Missed

They say you can see the signs—  
when someone’s ready to end it all,  
but that’s a lie we cling to,  
because facing the truth feels too small.

They smiled before they didn’t.  
They laughed, joked, played along,  
and you cheered at their happiness,  
while they were drowning all along.

You missed the nights they cried alone,  
the moments when the world closed in.  
You saw the surface, the forced smile,  
but never saw the chaos beneath the skin.

That’s the thing about thoughts like these—  
they don’t show up waving a flag.  
I’m sad, but you’ll never see it,  
because my pain’s concealed in the drag.

I won’t “attempt”—  
because if I do, it won’t be a try.  
There won’t be a second chance,  
there won’t be a goodbye.

So I sit here, laughing like they did,  
grinning through a hollow soul.  
I know one day I won’t wake up,  
and you’ll wonder how you missed the whole.

You’ll ask yourself how you didn’t see  
the cracks beneath my steady gaze,  
but I’ve learned to perfect this mask,  
to keep you blind through the haze.

Because no one really looks,  
no one really knows.  
You see the laughter, the light, the smiles,  
but never the part that’s ready to let go.

So, when that day comes, when I’m gone,  
don’t act like you saw it all along.  
You never saw me, not the real me—  
just the happy face you thought belonged.