Under my pillow I hide part of what I wanted to be and things I could never obtain.
+There I covered my obscure part, what ties me to my most private sick obsessions.
Under my pillow there are only extremes (many traces of scars and some tears of laughter) no warm memory.
+There I save some energy for the risks I wouldn’t forgive myself for not taking.
Under my pillow there is a part of me that wants to see the light, again.