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20 Minutes

I work for 20 minutes.
20 minutes of writing,
20 minutes of sleep,
20 minutes of doing my best to keep
My heart quiet…
And hidden.
Afraid of every “thudump”
Being just loud enough for you to hear.
And find me.
Still so lost,
Exactly where you left me
To wither
And shrink.
And eventually disappear.
But I’ve not withered,
I’ve grown:
Grown in darkness
And hate.
Until I can’t like me
Any longer.



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