You do not know the battles that I

have fought in this room.

All you see is a bed,

a mangled woolen blanket, lying

askew a top messy sheets.

An iPod, with cords tangled,

half hidden beneath a fold of fabric.

If you walked into this room

you wouldn't double take.

You don't know

that laying against

that blanket was the only way

I couldn't hear my heart.

You don't know

that the iPod is laying there

because I fell asleep trying

to distract myself with music.

You don't know

that the sheets are messy

because I tossed and turned

for hours.

All you see is a bed.

No tear drops on the sheets.

No gut-wrenching thoughts that

churned through my head

as the clock ticked into

early morning.

You just see a bed.