The Jar

The fridge hums a soft tune, almost too loud,

each second I hesitate, hovering at the door,

a glow spills out, shadows dance inside,

a jar waits in the back—colorful, vibrant,

but what lies beneath that lid?

Memories of meals now blurred,

what if I find more than food,

what if the scent of decay

invokes fears I’d rather ignore?

Dancing around it like a bad dream,

this thing I fear to uncover—

my heart beats louder than the hum.