Waiting for the season...

I am writing words that I can't
show the world at large,
because what I write must be censored now.
Everything I feel, my outlets
are closed off, one by one,
be those who wish ill of me.
Every line, every page, locked down.

I have so much to say,
and I have only faces turning away,
deaf ears, I am
watching their backs as they walk away.
All of my feelings must be kept inside.

In this sunlight space that smells of
summer, smells of baking and
sugar, and sweet,
I feel homesick
and lonely
for a life that I once had, and one that
I can never have again.

And that makes me very sad.