Behind the Closed Door…

“You never know what someone is dealing with behind closed doors. You only know what you see or what you think you see.”
― Mackenzie Phillips

Just few steps to my room and I was ready to pour,
Falling drops when touched my lips tasted bitter and sour,
I closed the door softly, pretending; to not let them know,
Fear and anxiety pricked me; as on the ground I laid low.

Though their shouts and curses was low to my ears now,
I couldn't get rid of dark voices that followed me somehow.
My hands wrapped my knees and tears couldn't stop but roll,
Scared and tired, I didn't know when I feel asleep on the floor.

My waking up was sudden when mother called my name,
An hour had passed since and situations weren't the same.
She put me food on the table, not uttering a word,
Her silence might have reasons; it hit me heavier than a sword.

Wanting to know but couldn’t dare to ask her on the face,
With a heavy heart I left, how much I wished to have solved the mess.
Shutting the door, I plugged in some music and fall back to bed,
Let my mind wander around the closed walls, so I could clear my head.