Open Door

Wed, 01/02/2019 - 19:40 -- Purl

Silent.

Afraid.

Alone. . .

I sit in the corner

And see people from afar.

Laughing.

Talking.

Having a good time.

 

I wonder, why me?

Why am I so quiet. . .

So shy?

No matter what I do,

I do not have the courage.

The courage to meet.

To meet new people.

 

I ask-

What if they do not like me?

What if they think I am strange?

What if, when I face them

I remain silent?

What if I ask the wrong thing?

 

What if, when I open up,

Instead of meeting me with a calm spirit

They throw a spear through the door

That I have opened to my heart?

What if being vulnerable does not pay off?

 

As I ask these things,

The person sitting next to me

Pours out their heart,

They speak of being shunned.

Tormented.

Left alone in self-pity.

 

I realize, this person is doing

Just what I fear.

They have opened up

And are seeking a calm spirit.

In response to them,

I open my heart as well.

 

I tell them a secret undivulged to anyone. . .

Until now.

I share of wanting to use a lesser pain,

To eliminate a greater pain.

The air is silent.

 

I turn to the other person,

Who shows me their wrists and says,

"I wanted the same thing too."

 

So yes, when you open up your heart

You may be met with spears and swords

Or, just maybe,

You'll be met with a second open door.

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741