Revolving Door

I am a revolving door People crash into me In tears they ask me to move. People ignore my dirty glass. They never wipe tears from my face. I am a revolving door. I hear all of their problems. People come and go and they don’t think that I have problems. All I ever hear is the sound of my squeaking hinges, wind in my face, and tireless stories about how they hate themselves. I am a revolving door. They never see me as a person. Just a place to go through. Just a face to go through. Just a door to go through. They have a phase to go through. I am a revolving door. The one that will always be there. I do not move away. I do not go away. Their pain never goes away from me. I punish myself and listen helplessly And when they move on I wait for them to come back. I am a revolving door that they never see again. that they forget. I am a revolving door. I do not move. I am all that they go through. They do not see the rain against my face because they are behind it protected and hiding from their fears from the world. I am their protector. I hurt. I feel. I see. I hear. I am NOT a revolving door. I am Me.