I have highs and lows.
I've been told this.
More so than most.
One moment could starkly contrast the next,
as I move from joy to sorrow,
from happiness to gloom.
I've swept issues under the rug,
my heart being buried alive
by their dark comments.
and things that happened to me as a child.
I refused to cry,
to let others know,
and so the dust grew and grew over my heart,
until it was buried alive.
And now that poor soul weeps,
at the most random of times.
Over an ice-cream cone gone awry,
or stupid instances.
Anger pounds it's way to where it doesn't belong,
being taken out on those it never should've touched,
a misplaced frustration,
screaming out from the buried heart.
Buried beneath the weight of low self esteem.