Equanimity

Equanimity is tricky.
It can fool most everyone.
You wear it like a costume.
Evenness of temperament,
Sunglasses and a pleasant smile,
Makeup and a nod,
A slapdash shot at manners . . .
If only you don’t forget.
From the outside looking in,
It resembles courage
To those who only glance
As they pass by.
“Isn’t she brave?”
But all the while, inside,
Secretly, you’re boiling,
Yet, you are freezing still.
And you make certain
That no one hears
Your midnight scream.
It looms larger than loneliness,
And deeper than the fear of dying.
Your constant companion:
Hidden, swallowed grief.