I have recently discovered that I have an intruder inside my house.
It took me a while because he didn’t break in and enter.
He already had a key,
the key being me,
me losing my key.

Don’t get me wrong.
I check whether I locked the door,
one,
two,
three,
times before I leave my house every morning.

Sometimes,
I lose track of how many times throughout the day,
I check whether my keys are in my purse

When I return home in the night,
I repeat the same routine as,
in the morning.

Recently, the longest I have gone without protecting my house,
was when you walked into my life.
I held the door open for you,
and you didn’t even have to ask me to.

I don’t remember exactly when I gave you the duplicate key,
but I liked your frequent visits,
and how my pillows smelled like after you left.

But the last time you left,
you left the door open,
and you never came back.

It’s been perhaps a year,
since I have been trying to close the door.

I woke up to the sound of a creaking door one night.
I find you.
My house is on flames;
but all I could think about were the daffodils and the mantra of sorry you have brought back.

Then, I wake up in the morning and realize,
there never was an intruder.
My house is not burnt down,
but the daffodils in my kitchen table are very much newfangled.