The Door To My Heart

The door to my heart  

Is a guarded start

A rusted part

A trembling art  

That shadows chart  

In rooms apart

The door to my heart  

Is a narrow frame 

A whispered claim

A lock that keeps  

Each ghost the same

A quiet flame  

Without a name

The door to my heart  

Is a waiting key

A symmetry

A bruise that learned  

To mimic me

A sealed decree  

Of secrecy

The door to my heart  

Is a tilted light

A borrowed night

A threshold caught  

Between invite  

And coiled fright  

That grips too tight

The door to my heart  

Is a pulse

A part  

A midnight chart  

Of scars in art

And if you knock

You’ll feel it start

The soft

Unsure

Unsteady  

Spark  

Of letting someone  

Through the dark  

Into  

The  

Heart