I like closed doors,
The best conversations take place behind them,
You never know if they are talking about you, him, her or them,
If they are praising you or abusing you… it’s a wonderful mystery.
Mysteries that parents hate…
“Wish the doors were open, the windows as well then maybe we could’ve heard the shaking in her voice when she told us she was fine. We could’ve heard the sound of his knife cutting into his own flesh and his weak Yelp.”
I like closed doors.
The idea of shutting yourself off and not looking at the people who you do not wish to interact with, of abandoning the world and entering your own even if it is just for a minute, where they can’t see you and you can’t see them…just amazes me.
And a lot of you know what I’m talking about.
Privacy,
Yes, privacy,
A teenager’s dream and a parent’s nightmare,
But to me, it’s a shield, a shield I use to keep everyone away because I’m not trying to get my heart broken today,
I’m not trying to get my hopes up,
I’m stopping myself from believing every word you say.
I slam the door in your face, thinking it’s alright.
I don’t care whose feelings I hurt as long as they weren’t mine
I convince myself that my actions were pure, I tell myself it’s fine.
But seeing the tears pool around my victims isn’t a pleasant sight.
A nightmare for parents not to see what their children are up to 24/7,
To see their momentary smiles morphe into a frown because their children are afraid to let them down.
They come out of their world the bags underneath their eyes and hair unkept,
Although you know there will be a disaster,
You are still scared to knock on the door for you fear the child you once knew and loved isn’t going to be the one to come and answer.
I lock my doors but I still try and open others’
Telling them that their secrets are safe with me.
Like I’m the parachute that gently puts them on the ground.
Sentences like “I’ll always be here for you “,
“I’ll be there till the end”, “you don’t have to worry” are just bullets piercing their feelings,
My smile being the perfect disguise, it distracts them from seeing the joy drowning in their eyes.
I’m sorry, I never meant to do that,
I am the “comforting friend”,
Who tries to be there for everyone and ends up being there for no one.
Now when I knock on their door there is no response,
Now when I try to open them they always slam shut from the other side,
There are so many more doors to try my luck with but my patience is running thin.
I said I liked closed doors…
Until it was my face they were slammed in.