Doors

Standing here,
The walls in this bare room screaming out to me,
The nightmare will never stop,
Can never stop,
It is the only part of my life that is real.

Did he hear me?
Screaming and writhing in the pain of it all?
Or did he chose to ignore me,
Tune me out like a stuck record he can no longer listen to?
Did I waste the last breath on him,
The man I never knew?

Looking into my book,
My story, my life in one book,
It was all him.
Every page, every sentence,
Him.

I must snap this book shut,
Turn away from the mirror that is re-telling my past story,
But I cannot, it all seems so foreign to me,
Like I wasn’t the person leading that life,
Like I was an outsider looking in.

I desperately need to close this door,
To leave my past behind me and start a new life,
But the door is far too solid and stiff for 100 men to close,
Meaning the past will inevitably come back to haunt me,
And yet I dream of walking all the way through it.

Because to be back on that beach
With the tide coming in to greet me, lapping at my feet,
The soft orange glow of the setting sun, lighting up the darkness
And the gentle breeze blowing my white cotton dress,
Is what waits behind that door.

But instead I just linger in the waves,
Struggling to keep my head above the water.
I stepped on a little pebble,
And it ran with me,
Now I’m trying not to drown.

I stepped through the threshold
With one thought on my mind.

Did he hear me?
Hoping that he did burst me into flames
Bringing my inner spirit to life when it had died many lifetimes ago
And if I was to have one last wish,
The story of my life,
It would be that he heard.