The Door Is Open

At sixteen my heart was filled with songs and stories swept up with the thought of love.

By eighteen he occupied every corner.

Fairytales were now for those who did not know love, not like I did.

Shortly into nineteen my heart was shattered.

It took years to put the pieces back together.

And the pieces that no longer fit, were left behind [with him].

When he showed up at twenty-one, I was cautious.

I made him earn every corner this time, trialing through every jagged piece.

He survived and claimed his place in my heart.

In turn I bound myself to him.

Almost to twenty-seven he asked for his release.

Again, my heart was shattered.

Benumbed, I let the pieces of my heart fall away.

At twenty-nine, I wondered where he was and if my heart had strength to hold him.

With glue and tape I rebuilt the closest thing to a heart I could assemble.

Now I walk through the crumbling hallways day in and out, waiting for him.

The waiting room is empty, but the door is open.