The Door

by Christina
(Milwaukee, WI, USA)

You walked out the door and didn't say where you were going.
You walked out the door and said you were going to the park.
You walked out the door to buy a newspaper but didn't return for three hours.
You walked out the door into the darkness and out of my heart.
You walked out the door and you were grinning like a maniac.
You walked out the door and you were troubled, concerned.
You walked out the door and didn't look back.
You walked out the door and didn't care that I was still there, in the shadows.
You walked out the door and never looked back.

I am beginning to hate that door.

You walked out the door as if it were a window through which you could see on a sunny spring day.
You walked out the door and picked flowers from our garden and I wondered into whose hands they would be given.
You walked out the door and you were hiding a package under your shirt.
You walked out the door and you were in a remarkable
hurry.
You walked out the door as if you were vowing never to come back.
You walked out the door and my mind wasn't filled with blue skies and roses.
You walked out the door and something inside of me yelled HELP and TROUBLE.
You walked out the door and I thought that I shouldn't be worrying about you or where you were going.
You walked out the door and left me alone.

I am beginning to hate that door.