I can be
So
Quiet.
Listen:
There is the soft shush
Of cotton sheets ghosting over skin.
And there, the airy sigh of the down comforter
As it shifts and settles
And I am crying my heart out.
There's a certain art to it
Crying and making no sound at all
Because I can be
So
Quiet.
Look:
I am still.
My shoulders do not shake
And my chest does not heave
And there are no halting, watery breaths
There is only a pillow
Crushed up against my ribs
I am gripping it so hard
That the fragile bones in my tiny hands creak.
You might hear that if you listen.
But I am quiet.
So
Quiet
When I am crying for the things that I have