My stomach tense up-Maybe it's the emptiness, or the caffiene.
For once, I'd like to hear the piercing ring of the phone.
A broken word, once again, is presented before me.
I struggle to conceal my tears, before my mother has a chance to enter the room,
to begin sputtering questions from her mouth;
-Or almost worse, to not notice the small streams erupting from my eyes.
I hope the sleeves of my hoodie did the trick-they can't wipe away my blushing eyebrows.
The sound of her joy, as she laughs in the next room,
the sight of her dancing into the room I reside, makes it harder to keep the mask over my emotions.
I take hidden deep breaths and play "tough girl" in my mind.
I fight hunger for now, hoping that I can accomplish that, if not anything else tonight.
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