There will always be
this door between us;
rattling in the wind
yet the hinges are too stiff
for it ever to open.
Within the wood grain
his face is etched –
the man who loves us both,
who had to lose me
in order to have you.
In his face
we see two different men,
thus the bolts on the door
continue to rust and tighten,
creak and solidify
as we seek a middle ground;
slip our fingers beneath the door
to hold each other’s hands.
And I would be lying
if I said I didn’t hope
the door develops rot,
a sickness which strips it thin
from the outside in
so one day it is brittle enough
to peel away the wooden face;
wrinkled lines and unmoving eyes,
to see yours on the other side
and hold you, taste the same air
as you, and breathe
with the relief I will
no longer need to fight
to see you.
In response to August 8th: Closed doors, #rainasmprompts
Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019
Available internationally
Really well written!
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Thank you ☺️
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Well written I hope god listens this one of yours without you worrying about the other side,
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