Screaming Into My Pillowcase

A cycle of poems «The Night Won’t Let Me Forget You»

The lights are off. The world’s asleep.
No one can hear me now. Not even you.
So I press down… and start to weep -
Not with tears. With something true.

I smile at work. I crack a joke.
Nod along like I’m okay.
But every breath feels like a choke,
And night is when I can’t obey
The lie that says, "Just hold it in."

I lock the door. I shut the blinds.
Pull sheets up high to muffle din.
And scream your name in tangled lines -
A storm no one will ever find.

You left without a final word,
Just silence dressed in empty space.
Now every thought is overheard
By shadows wearing your old face.

I’m screaming into my pillowcases,
Burying pain in cotton traces.
No one sees the red, raw throat,
The war I wage inside this coat
Of skin and bones and forced goodbyes -
Just hollow eyes and tired lies.

I bought new ones - you liked the blue -
Tried to erase what they had heard.
But first night there, I broke right through,
And soaked them both with silent words.

Now stains remain like battle scars,
From fights no witness ever knew.
Like how I miss you past the stars,
Or how I still wear half your crewneck too.

I curse the bed where we once lay,
Where love was warm and close and real.
Now all it holds is what I pay
For loving someone who won’t heal.

I bite the fabric when it grows -
That urge to call and beg and plead.
But pride’s a wall no feeling knows…
So I just bleed.
And bleed.
And bleed.

I’m screaming into my pillowcases,
Burying pain in cotton traces.
No one sees the red, raw throat,
The war I wage inside this coat
Of skin and bones and forced goodbyes -
Just hollow eyes and tired lies.

Maybe strength isn’t never breaking,
Maybe it’s doing it alone.
Hiding the ache while hearts are faking
Smiles they don’t feel, and calls not home.

And maybe healing doesn’t start
With closure, truth, or grand release.
But in the dark, with shattered heart,
When silence finally lets you scream.

So let it rip. Let fury fly.
Let grief have weight. Let sorrow win.
‘Cause if I don’t scream now, I might
Forget I ever felt anything.

Dawn will come. I’ll wash the sheets.
Smooth out the creases. Fake a grin.
Say, "I’m fine," to passing streets…
While ghosts still live beneath my skin.

But tonight? Tonight I let it go.
One more cry. One final plea.
Screaming into my pillowcases…
And hoping, somehow, you can hear me.