you'd hear my tiptoed steps down the stairs at midnight

you'd hear the kettle boil, the sound of splashing water, at midnight

you'd hear the hiss escape my mouth as I use the scorching heat to distract my mind at midnight

you'd hear my weeping and sobbing, alone at midnight

you'd hear my shaky breaths as I calm the panic overwhelming me at midnight

you'd hear the scream from someone whose pain was overwhelming at midnight

you'd hear the 'invincible' become invisible at midnight

you'd hear it all,
if only you'd listen at midnight.

---

This was actually about stomach aches (deep, I know), in case you were wondering. For real though, I hate how no one ever seems to believe that I actually have a diagnosed medical problem - several actually, but let's not get into those - and that it isn't just a cry for attention or an excuse to get out of things. IBS is not fun :(

The end, bye