In Security

Cold silence
blessed silence
hot tears sear
tile floor
marble walls
icy porcelain pillow
where I lay my head
I flee to the sanctuary
to choke out
pain and mortification
it is here where I hide
to shed my shame
choking sobs
fear without name
anger, hurt, remorse
shudder at the game
and here I sit
stall number three
terrified someone will come
someone will hear
and yet
to stop the flood
mortified tears

author: April Wells
published: January 13, 2016

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