deepundergroundpoetry.com

The door

I find myself standing infront of your door,
You know, not the fishnet house door.
No, I was still able to pass that.
What did that door ever do to me?
No I’m standing before your bedroom door.
Its closed.
Should I knock? Should I enter?
What if this is a mistake?
I told myself I have forgiven you,
For what almost could have been.
Did I really?
Message sent. “I’m here”
But you’re not opening my text...
Please don’t make me have to do this!
I’m not even sure I can.
I make a fist and lift it up, but I
stop.
Deep breath. You will be okay.
You are doing the right thing.
Everyone deserves a second chance.
I don’t want to knock on the door.
All my nightmares are behind it.
All of them that you caused.
This door has all my sleepless nights.
My sweaty dreams. My panic attacks.
Yet the door looks so calm.
Its wooden, and painted white.
So pure, so light, so euphoric.
My hand slips and hits the door.
Oh no! I did it!
I knocked.
I decided to knock again to make it not awkward.
“Come on in”
I open the door...the whole place looks different.
No plain walls. No clothes on the floor. Your tv is off and your light is on.
“The place looks...happy” I let out.
He said he was going to change his room.
I look around and for a mere second,
I could feel hope for the first time again...
poedelkietjie
Written by poedelkietjie
Published
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