Smile

I always wondered where I learned to smile.

With the red-tinged teeth of splintered glass,
A gash in the face like a knife wound.
A line made with mirth and memory, from
Ear to ear, from thought to thought.

A row of tombstones behind cracked and broken lips,
A razor edged tongue spitting words through a wound.
Life's comedies and tragedies bled out,
In jeers and shouts and greeting to the gray world.

A cut with a mental blade across the jaw,
Drawing words out with a provocation.
Sharp slashes that slice away skin and bone,
Revealing the soul inside, like a wrapped present.

A sharp jolt of shock from mind to mind,
Expressions of this and that, spraying out.
Holes in the masks we craft for ourselves,
A tear, a peek through the fabric of the facade.