I choose,
I choose to write on my wrists the words I cannot say
Spiraling around my arms the secrets I cannot tell
Finding their way to my neck the sentences  I don't understand
Kissing my ears, my lips, my whole body
A scroll full of ink, red, black and blue
A rainbow of selective colours, meaning not a rainbow at all.
In the morning these words disappear
Evaporate into the tingling morning air to join my dreams in the boxes I have kept them in order to gather dust and remain unopened, untouched and unlived.