Why is she smiling?

I was wronged.

And now I see the culprit, bouncing around.

Throwing sunrays from here and there.

Oh, I loathe that image of her curving her lips.

Flashing a smile as if she was not the cause of a downfall.

And so, she denies.

Elaborating that she was a victim, too.

But she knows.

You know!

She clearly knew what was right and wrong.

But she consciously chose the latter and that's where she stopped being a victim.

Why is she smiling?

I water the pain every day.

Each day it grows into a monster.

A monster that sleeps but wants to wake up and do the inevitable.

It wants to harm.

It wants to wreak havoc.

But a withered heart lulls the monster to go back to sleep.

It forcefully closes its eyes as images of their sin flash unwillingly.

Why is she smiling?

A question that needs to be buried deep.

I was wronged.

These are three painful words I keep repeating to myself.

Betrayal, lies, deceit, how they made me into a fool.

The monster feeds from such sorrow.

Such sorrow is concealed by a façade.

A façade that shows bliss and forces a smile despite the hurt.

And I ask myself...

Why am I smiling?