Knocking

There is someone knocking on your door.
It’s not me I swear it. She just looks like me.
Drown in her own tears and blood.
She’s knocking on your door.
Begging to be let in.
I swear that’s not me. She just happens to look like me.
I’m a mile away from here in a distant land.
One where I am strong enough not to allow anything to hurt me.
That girl, you know, the one that looks like me.
She wants to be loved, she wants to know that she is safe.
How do I know?
I know because that girl is me.
That is the me before I met you.
And you were the one who opened the door with a smile on the other side.
With a promise of love and safety.
There is no knocking on the door anymore because you opened it for her which changed her.
Into me.