Hidden

They say I'll be fine,
they say it's okay to cry.
Do they lie?
It's suffocating in the dead of night.
I want to start and cry,
the water that falls off my face,
the salt like water.
Wounds that have to heal,
screeching to someone to hear me.
In this empty place,
that does not exist.
Only in my imagination.
It is that,
that I have let go.
That darkness,
that I released from it's sleep.
I must release what I hid.