Only my pillow knows of the late nights staring at the ceiling, of the silent tears rolling until tiredness knocks me out.
Of the scenarios I plot that most likely will never happen.
Only my pillow knows because my diary is hidden under it.
Of the dreams where you realize its been long enough and come looking for me.
Only my pillow knows and doesnt get tired of the same subject everynight, only she gets what I feel and stays in silence while I weep.
Only my pillow knows I hit snooze cause I want to keep dreaming of you. Only she knows that every morning you are my first thought.
What my pillow doesnt know but my car stereo does is that everyday I try to find music that doesn't remind me of you, that I fake a smile as long as the day lasts until I get back home to the only one that knows the truth.
RM