Pillows

I want to cry alone at night in the comfort of my room I force myself to hold my thoughts until I am allowed the time to cry I cry over my wonders and how everything has gone wrong Or the mere fact of wrongness I cry yet stand strong and live I cry that I enjoy each day as hellish a day may be Or the fact of my moment’s allowance to give up and cry I wonder who will find me, or if I am or will find myself Sometimes I question clues or analyze too deeply or hopefully I wonder who will hold me and mean every word they say And lucky for me I seem to be vulnerable to distraction If not, I’d be begging the florescence of the day to blind me And yet remain into the night to never cry again It is that I cry for nothing and that I cry for everything And that I am which too young to hold all of them Unfortunately lacking the maturity and wisdom to manage my thoughts As they flood, drown, depress, and deprive me But as if to be okay, to only cry amongst my pillows To feel as if I gain some warmth Though my own from the many blankets I need to feel embraced 2003