i want our love to be like the entrance to our apartment

i want it to grow like the weathered, soften rim of our front door-
worn in but familiar and safe

like the heavily rusted, but loyal hinges;
tight and reassuring 

like the cracked flower *** that desperately clings onto bright specks of sunflowers;
hopeful and determined

like the flickering light bulb in the dark hallway that refuses to give through and die out