In your face I expected all the things I didn’t see. 

What was there? 

I have shown you my demons and you didn’t run.

I have given you chance to turn away. 

Yet you still stay. 


I wait for you to say I am too much.

Then you ask for more.

I hold my heart’s scars close,

 To hide them from others? 

To hide them from myself?

Yet you still want to see. 


I strip the walls down again 

As the walls creep up entombing me from all.

You knock and wait, 

I ignore until pressure breaks what has been dammed up. 

I search for the door which you found to knock.


I stand at the door listening for a sign.

Ear pressed, holding my breath, daring to hope you still await.

Fears of letting your compassion pass by floods.

Recklessly I throw the doors weight with a thud.

You are still there—k