Air swirled by the force of the opening door,
Tousling my chestnut curls,
As I breathe in the stale air,

I am faced with dust coated boxes,
Filled to their brims,
With old memories hidden long ago,

Chills run down my spine,
Coursing through my blood,
I do not want to go back,
I do not want to remember,

But I know it's the only way,
To get over the distant, fading past