Silent Cry

I'm fine

when I wear the mask

of confidence.

But when that mask

slips, the pain

is uncorked

and pours out

like rotten juice.

I try to wear happiness,

and I do it well

But there's something,

always something,

that tears it off

and leaves me reeling,

contorting,

falling,

until I can't keep

that silent cry

from screaming out

as loud as it wants.

I can't hide.

I can't hold.

Misery is my company,

but its only way out

of me.

Is when that cry

becomes angry and mean.

And needs a place

to escape

and let it all out.