Thursday, October 10, 2013

heavy wooden door

i wonder
will you notice
that i have left?
will you reach out and
speak a few
curious words to me?
or am i just the sound
of silent glass breaking
not a word or a drop of meaning
eliciting from your
granite-smooth heart
i tried so desperately
to squeeze
emotions like 
juice from a
stubborn lemon
from you
i closed my eyes, tight
and wished
as i searched for insight
behind the curtains of
your eyelids
and what i found
behind the beautiful blue
pendants that lie
beneath your lashes
was a heavy wooden door
sealed shut and
covered in dust
from the sea-salt spray of
i'm decades ahead of
your past
and i don't know how
to stretch my arms and
reach back
i'm a failure at
unlocking the
chambers you close with
passwords and secrets
i'm a blurry mistake on 
a math test;
don't say anything about
the scribbled pencil marks
and the pitiful words 
i have written for you
oh please,
don't mention 
the innumerable 
attempts I have made
or the essay i wrote
that you have marked
with a blood-red F

i wring my hands,
and i collapse beneath
the surrender i am owning

i'm relieved
to return my attempts
at creating a key
for the nights grew cold
and my voice grew hoarse
as i stood outside
a heavy wooden door

dear friend,
let me in

i promise that i won't hurt you.