She hides it all.
She hides the scars
under sleeves in the winter,
bracelets in the summer,
under shirts and shorts and tennis shoes
all the time.
She hides blades
in an old earring box,
that rest inside another box,
sleeping under her bed.
She hides lighters,
and matches
and metal bobby pins
in the false bottom of her jewelry box
that her parents got her.
(She wonders if they knew about the false bottom.
she doesn't think so.
She wonders what they'd say if they knew,
their gift
guarded her addiction.)
She hides the pills
and the boxes of 'help'
and the weight loss drinks/powders/pills
in an old purse
with a picture of Eeyore on it.
That's in a corner of her closet,
buried,
for use only in emergencies.
(Although lately,
those seem to crop up more and more)
She hides her sadness,
her depression,
her issues
behind a fake smile
that no one questions.
But she can't hide anything
in her eyes.
They betray her
whenever she looks in the mirror.
She can see it all,
and she knows
anybody could,
if only they looked.
But thank God,
they don't.
