The Doorbell

I pace the hallway in front of the door,

Excited like a child awaiting a mother’s return.

Ears awaiting the crass ding-dong of the bell,

A sharp sound, one I would normally hate.

The next day I will still be sitting by the door,

Eager like a puppy to be taken for a walk,

It shouldn’t be much longer before the bell rings,

With a thousand promises of the future.

A week after that I will still glance at the wood,

And with a hopeful sigh I will imagine you,

Walking through the door, with a crooked smile,

Holding flowers in one hand and my hand in the other.

It will take a long time for me to stop looking at the door,

To stop staying awake, imagining the sharp trill of the bell.

Soon the door itself will be no more,

And neither the doorbell.

I just hope, so intensely so,

That you do not come knocking down at my new door.

For if you do, things will happen the way things always happen:

A vicious cycle, an evil spell, an “It’s okay”.

That’s all it takes for you to come back to me,

And for me to tumble down all those stairs again,

And I sit here again, awaiting the doorbell.

And I pace the hallway in front of the door.

 - Ria <3