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