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liakey Aug 2020
i opened the door,
yet another time,
welcoming you back into my life.

such warmth at first;
you provided me with light on the darkest nights.

days pass, weeks become months;
the warmth of the summer fades away,
overtaken by coldness now, so i beg you to stay.

weak and pathetic, yet again, i’m nothing to you;
not that i really care;
i find comfort in the familiarity of this barren place, too.

i’d do anything to keep you from leaving;
i don’t understand why you come back,
if this is how it always ends up being..?

begging for immunity,
i’m granted none.
yet again infected,
i close my eyes so i don’t have to watch as you run.

stuck here, far from home;
in this place you left me..

i’m all alone.

i have no choice:
i slammed the door, one final time;
changed the locks; anything to keep you from ever stopping by;
so help me god, grant me the strength, to put back together this mess that remains inside.
Ileana Amara Aug 2020
i would welcome it with a warm mug of coffee,
venture its entirety beyond what i could see,
wrap my soul's arms around it, never to let it go,
for cynical pain was death and chaos,
and i have learned that to live was to love and grow.

IA
Bhill Aug 2020
there is a beginning, in that I am sure
the ending is out there, right through that door
the door may not open, will that be a surprise
if you open it early you may meet demise
in my honest opinion, the secret is clear
keep that door tightly closed and kick life in the rear...

Brian Hill - 2020 # 217
Don't open early...!
Amanda Kay Burke Aug 2020
I do not want to argue anymore
Show me the way to the door
I would rather slum it surfing couch to couch
Than hide from life as I slack and slouch
Look down upon from your self-righteous horse
Insults hurled til your voice is hoarse
And "wouldn't you feel bad if I died?"
As if unaware of how I feel inside
I hate living with constant fear and anxiety. I honesty do not know how to refrain from taking it out on other people. Especially those close to me, such as my mother.
Shofi Ahmed Jul 2020
On my way into  
the chamber of the rose
I saw there was no rose
a thorn is on the door!

Slash it cut it bin it off
I did these all
only to grow many more!

I took a chance
without drawing close
with a pinch of salt
I played a creative stroke.

Ah did I rub the Aladdin’s lamp
now it seems to talk?
Fostering an array of whispers
we tend to build a bubble.
Only to realise I am
still outside at the door!
Mediating with the thorn
yet to art over to the rose.
Gunnika Mehra Jul 2020
Deep in my heart lies a door,
The key is lost.
And my soul is trapped inside.

Deep in my mind,
Lies a key.
But the heart knows it not.

Maybe if they weren't always in conflict,
They would have freed the soul,
Long ago.
Devin Ortiz Jul 2020
My life changed on a whim.
For no particular reason I watched a squirrel scurry up a tree.
He, or she (but not an it), stared at me.
They went branch to branch, stopping here and there to observe their new observer.

And how many times has this moment passed by, going unnoticed.
How many times had this animal instinct been drowned out by the clutter of daily life.

It wasn’t as though I had disregarded life before, but this was a fundamental awakening.
Before I could wrap my head around the simplicity of this divine happenstance,
I saw a cardinal swoop down on a fence-post a few feet away.
Again, I was enveloped in the novelty of this life.
I was in a state of dull wonder, looking at the vibrant red, the low swoop of the crown, the small of the body.

The trance broke, another squirrel scurried past me and up a tree.

I noticed this one bore a scar.
The hind leg was stripped of fur.
The skin wore the discoloration of freshly healed flesh.
They too, stared at me, perhaps perplexed that it was being watched.

I walked on.
Then finishing my morning walk, I noticed many things.
It was not just life that was intriguing me, it was the way the mundane began to scream at me.
I walked through abandoned lots, noting the way their roads would crack and crumble.
I noticed broken security cameras from long departed offices and buildings.
I noticed the broken marlin in the trash heap behind some house, no longer sporting its beak.
I noticed an old ford with a rubber rifle shell for an antenna and a load of wood planks in its bed.
I noticed a graffiti stick figure on the short bridge, some dystopian cave painting.

All of that to say, a hidden world became revealed.
A world that existed underneath my own, blurred by its previously perceived unimportance.
So now, I wonder what to do with this knowledge.
I think I’ll borrow its magic.
I think I’ll write down the bizarre normalcy that I see.
A running list of averages.
It is the beginning of something.

A door has opened.
E Jul 2020
Home
Is where the heart is
Or do they say
Home
Is
Family
A blue door
Home is
Me
Devin Ortiz Jul 2020
Today, I am walking the path of the infinite self.
It is a road that stretches forever inwards and outwards.
I unravel,
I cross the rubicon,
I contain multitudes,
The door in the sky opens.
A hand reaches down and pulls me through it.

I become a face in a sea of many:
A swimming ocean of everything I’ve been and yet to be.
A dream floating on the sleepy universe of impossibility.

I accept this smallness.
Then I reach inwards and offer a hand.
I become whatever self I require.
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