Sometimes I make. Sometimes I wonder.
But I never leave what could have been.
I keep waiting.
I don’t like letting go of people
I know what a luxury it is,
There’s no point availing it –
I wait as, one by one, the doors shut in my face
I knock-knock as I hear the bolts hammering on the other side.
The echoes of which rattle across me.
And I keep waiting.
The earth dances around me, mocking
Nature shows off she can change colour.
I see the doors have been long since shut,
The floor feels softer, with mosses overtaking it
The doors no more open to rooms
They are just hollow dungeons behind
Dark but unwelcoming as before.
And yet, I keep waiting.
The ghosts of my wait whisper in my years
Maybe eternity is longer than I think
Now newborn trees break through the doors
Doors – or – branches, they’re all just wood.
I no longer know if it’s my will or my graveless body
But I keep waiting.
I’ll keep waiting.