The silence leaves sorrow in my mouth, now
I taste woodsmoke, and my mom’s lasagna
A memory made out of something that
never came home, in the end

A stuttered pause
I went below the surface
too long, too much again
they couldn’t breathe around me

The silence leaves heartache in my mouth, now
I taste herbal tea, and sprite as it runs through my fingers
I carefully went along, ever watchful
for a safe place to build a den
But there was no room, in the end

So, I packed my truth tightly
my flag of the wild
hastily folded
as my eyes dimmed
treasures swept aside