Open door

You say you do not want to open doors, though you open the largest door of all, the door of communication, and then say so. You open the biggest door there is. You reached out to me. But no outstretched arms. No love to offer, no dreams fulfilled. You open the door, look at me, face blank and beautiful. Say sorry. And turn away. And walk. Walk away from me. I cannot walk through the door, it is yours to open, and yours to invite me through. But you do not invite me, you turn your back and walk. Again. I am left standing at the door. On the wrong side. The cold outside is where I remain. You do not close it as you leave. You leave it open, so I can watch you depart. Why did you open the door. Why did you. I feel helpless. Ripped open. Left bare. Left cold. Back to peace you stroll. Leaving me at war with myself. With you goes more of my love, it awakens sensing you, and for a brief moment, as light streams through the door you open there is joy. Hope reawakens with my stirring love. But your face, your words, they silence the joy. Stifle her and her hope with your expressionlessness. You are not here to take me with you. With this realisation, the bittersweet love pain rouses, and my love leaves me. Following you. Following its owner, Leaving me empty. But for the pain. Back to what you want you head. While I remain, and watch all I want walk. Away. Again.

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About Naomi Jane
Not your average Jane

One Response to Open door

  1. zibroweed says:

    Some might call it emo, but I thought this sounded thoughtful. Quite the commentary on the last lash out of an unhappy person. Makes it sound like they got what they intended, if not what they want.

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