Someone asks the speaker a simple question: what is the worst kind of crying? The speaker answers with a smile and a bit of laughter, which already hints that the answer hurts more than it sounds. The worst kind, they say, is the silent one, where you hold your breath, grab your tears, and force them to stay quiet and "safe."
That word "safe" is interesting. It suggests that crying out loud feels risky, as if someone might hear or judge. So the speaker hides the pain, even from the person closest to them. The smile at the start fits this too: it's a small mask.
The poem's mood is quiet, tender and a little sad. The short, broken lines feel like someone catching their breath. Then the ending turns outward: "So what about you?" The speaker finally hands the question back, as if hoping the listener will open up too.