My face is a peephole 

into what’s private

it shows how I feel 

when I try to hide it 

but you won’t know why 

looking at my head 

what I am thinking 

why my face is red 

maybe I’m angry 

at a next-door neighbor

or maybe it’s something 

something much greater 

it could be my fear

of standing in class 

or that my soul 

is made of thin glass 

maybe I’m jealous

of your recent trip

or maybe I harshly 

bit my upper lip

it could be my sadness 

for no real reason 

that happens precisely 

at one certain season

or maybe my face 

has brightened so red 

because the image of you 

popped into my head