standing with your feet a foot
away from the door
fist held high and poised behind
waiting to touch
but gaining entrance means you have
to tell who you are
but how could you do such a thing
when you don’t know yourself?
and how do you explain away
the blood on your hands?
and the knife you hid inside your coat
you’ve forgotten about?
her fingers intertwined she’s looking
down the road again
she lives to please and satisfy
the world she’s been given
but when alone she fears the dark
and those hiding in it
and kneeling down beside the mess
cries, “Father, forgive me.”
but how could she explain it all away
when she’s been caught red-handed?
and judged by every watching eye
would there be any point in it?
still you need a place to rest
unseen by the masses
one loud knock to break the silence
and enter another
she opens up her home to you
and you hide under the baskets
and one heart tells the other one
“I understand why.”
there’s no need to explain away
the guilt in your being
and the envy of a fuller life
when it was meant to be
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