I'm always the one who knocks on the door
Screaming, "let me in"
More like whispering instead
But, no response is ever granted
I await for your footsteps to press closer
Hoping to see a glimpse of your shadow in the light move swift at the bottom crease
Gasping every time I hear the jingling of keys thinking it's yours but it isn't, it's your neighbors
My face lights up with amusement hearing the latch on the other side opening
But, my ears heard wrong
It was the sound of the latch closing out our love
Much like, an unresponsive one
I squish my eyes to look through your peephole thinking I'll be able to play peek-a-boo with your shadows as they pass by
But, I'm stuck looking at the lid that hides the very nature of your being
I jiggle the door knob thinking if I turned it 3 times it will magically open
because just maybe, just maybe
a genie in passing might hear my cry
I banged. Kicked. Scratched.
Trying to inflict harm onto a old wooden door but I was left with nothing but bruises
Inflections of the love that kept me out
"Knock, knock", I'll say.
"Who's there?" You'll reply
"Me."
"Me, who?"
And I'll respond, "the one who knocks but is never,never let in."