I need to know if you're okay.
Please tell me if you are.
I need to know whats going on.
Let me in.
I'm at the door waiting for you to open it.
Just, let me in my love.
I'll always be here.
I'm here waiting for you to let me in the door.
My dear, my love, I'm here.

Knock Knock Knock
The blank room
Is opening
Ready it
To drag
Me to the brink of
Insanity
Having the padded
Cell Comfort Me
With the emptiness
Filling me
Leaving me to wonder
Why won't someone **** me.

I came upon a door that was either slightly opened or slightly closed.
It looked like an old door. It was made out of wood. It had an intricate design that only an artist with great sophistication and eye for detail could've done. I wonder who he was. I held its **** and the feeling of cold welcomed my hand. I twisted its **** gently so as not to break its fragile looking state. The door slowly opened and made a creaking sound. I saw an empty room. It was dark inside. I tried to find a light switch. I grabbed my phone and turned on its light. Its a good thing my phone has a flashlight feature. As I entered the room, I pointed my phone towards the walls of the room hoping to find a switch. I looked at every side and corner, but there was no light switch. I thought it was odd for someone to make a room without a light switch. How can someone stay at inside a room without light? What happens at night? Although it was an empty room, the furniture might have been moved or taken away by someone who used to live there. I saw some scuff marks on the floor beneath tiny specks of dust. With no luck finding a light switch, I decided to look around for a while. The room was quite big, it was about the size of a classroom and could fit around 10 to 20 people. I think it used to be a dining room. I looked up and saw a chandelier. It was barely noticeable as it was deeply hidden in the dark. It was covered with dust and had cobwebs all over. Its beauty has faded over the years. Near the chandelier, I found another door. Unlike the other one, this door was plain. It was made of steel. Pure and cold steel. What could be behind that door? Maybe it leads to another room, I thought. Suddenly, I heard a loud thud. The door behind me was shut. I went back and tried opening the door. I tried turning and twisting the ****, but it didn't work. I tried kicking the door, but it failed. I was trapped inside a dark room alone. Then I heard a thunderous crash bang against the wall. The steel door opened. I saw something I cannot explain. It was coming towards me. I fainted.

I'm too quiet I know,
    to you I'm a closed door.
        you're looking to see me open
you're looking for something you're supposed to listen for.

The heart breaks every so often
at the sound of closing doors.
The unstaying
(or even the uncoming)
drives its point
that maybe
it isn’t an option to settle.
One wonders
why yet again
love,
in essence,
is not enough
to bar life’s egress?
It’s a classic tale of hurting,
really,
where there are no heroes
or heroines,
only adversaries,
these hearts despairing,
accustomed to vacationing affections
that leave after the season’s end.


091615
*for c.d.

My heart wavers between ancient
and fresh.
You drag me down the water
with your anchor of false hopes.
And he wide opens his arms,
the door, his heart
then looks at me
And tells me I am free.


-- Eleanor

I know of a great door which has no ****,
No handle to grip, no doorbell to throb,
Long ages I've sat against its base,
And dreamt of the wonders behind its face.

A year
in which
each day
brings one
tenth inch.
First the
window sills
are covered
then door
jambs. Our
lips are
sealed then
our eyes
shut. Sleep
like this
we've never
known. Will
Spring return?
Unknown. We
care not.