It’s mine to keep, not
Anybody’s to see.
—silenced screams swaying
with the wind in the rain—
No one
Shall know it, and no one shall see
What it means to me.

Locked away,
Nice and tight, away from
The glare of the lights above,
—tangy tangerine drifts through the air softly,
swirling colors surrounding the mind—
silently
Awaiting the days when
It can be revealed.

Sitting quietly above all else, watching
Silently over from the shelf, staring simply
—water cascading down the windows, cinnamon
mixing with tangerine—
As if there’s something to see, silent
Screams echoing from above.

As among a day
The life it seemed to want to live
Unlike the others seemed
To care.

—frostbite tingling the frozen finger cells, tangerine cinnamon
assaulting taste buds, seeing the music
notes float through the air, the screams
of days gone by now the only sound on the air—

Last chance forward,
first chance backward.