Poetry entry #3: Used to it

Those peach dark marks within may swallow me up
These uncomparable tears have pent up way too much
It may have me tour a wrong world
I might be putting the wrong smiles and the wrong tears all along
I should've been smiling when I'm happy
Should've been crying when I am sad
I got used to concealing these little drops of salty hot water in the spoiled cage inside
In the depths, I strangled it far worse more than anyone could do
I've gotten used to it
Now, I don't understand what are smiles are for or what tears are for