When I was younger
I can remember
Hiding in a dark closet
To cry tears that otherwise
Would go noticed.
I was ashamed of pain
And sadness
Ashamed of how they
Turned my face into a mess,
And also scared of the reactions
People would have
Once they knew my reasons,
Once they knew my weakness.
I can remember those days
When I'd hide away,
Throw covers over my head
And scream
My anguish Into a pillow.
Now I call that pillow poetry