Keyhole

Keyhole

There is a locked door,

behind which I hide,

and there you are tapping

on the other side.

Slipping notes under it

to challenge my pride,

whispering through the lock,

asking me to confide.

Peeking through the keyhole

to see if I tried,

but found myself anxious

and tongue-tied.

Tell you the lock’s broken,

but you knew I lied.

You think I have the key

hidden somewhere inside.

You think I have answers

I can provide.

You say my fears

need to be put aside.

Maybe you heard me crying -

all glassy-eyed.

You offered your shoulder

so my tears could be dried.

You speak to a part of me

I thought had died.

Between head and heart

is a vast divide.

Strong will -

my blind guide,

and all emotions

fervently denied.

And there you are waiting

for me to decide,

wondering what will happen

if our worlds collide.

 

© 11/28/06