When the
doubts
come
creeping in,
...knock... knock...
Oh, I wouldn't
open
that door.
Yet—
we creak
it open
nevertheless,
to peek
at what's on
the other side.
And that
is when
their fun
begins.
The mind
plays tricks,
and tricks
play minds.
...knock... knock......
And not every sound
suggests someone’s
outside.
The creak,
the crawl,
the crawling creak...
tiptoes through
thoughts
like old floorboards—
each step
scraping
at memories.
Some doors
don’t need keys.
They wait,
just ajar,
breathing
in the silence
of it all.
Because—
the mind
plays tricks,
and tricks
lay mines.
The doubts—
they never
knock
to be let in—
they know
just where
the cracks are
in the woodgrain.
And once inside,
it lingers.
...knock... knock...
You hear it
in your chest.
lub—dub... lub—dub...
You hear it
when it’s
...quiet...
You hear it
even after
you swear
there was
nothing there.
Because the mind plays tricks,
and some tricks
don’t knock
at all.
A meditation on how doubt sneaks in—quiet, uninvited, and deeply familiar. Inspired by those moments when the mind turns against itself, whispering through the cracks we thought we’d sealed.