When I am sad and angry my pillow suffers and bears the brunt most,
It's case drenched with salty tears,
Punched again and again when in frustration,
Hugged tightly in my arms or between my knees for solace,
Smooched with lipstick,
And used as tissue wipe for runny nose .
Poor thing it also acts my holder,
My secrets forever,
And little things I want to hide from my siblings which they want and I am adamant  not to give,
Then it becomes a sit on,
When the situation becomes tense then it has to fight with their pillows.
Fare,wear and tear,
It has become out of shape,
But it is my heart,
And I can't part with my heart.
14/8/2020