Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Construction of Indecision
I keep my hand on the knob
clenching and unclenching with fearful muscles
an emotional spasm if you will.
I want to slam the door.
I want to lock it.
I want someone else to lock it...remove my choice.
I want to fling it open
so hard that the latch is incompetent
nothing but decorative hardware to a swinging door,
removing my choice.
I want to assemble a deadbolt
that can only be opened from my side.
I want you to screw in a hook & eye
that I can easily batter through from my side
when I wish...
so that finality is not really
I want to leave this door.
I want to run so far that I am unable to return,
unable to find it when resolve wavers like a hiccup,
those quick ins and outs,
Lamaze breaths with no birth.
I want temptation removed.
I want to become this door.
I want my molecules to fuse with it
so that there is no possibility of separating myself
and temptation is mythical.
I want to destroy this door...
every scratch, dent, and warp that showcases my handiwork
I want to reconstruct this door
antique knob from decades ago
and new squeak free hinges.
But I am not a carpenter
and this is not a door.
It is a bridge.
And even though we are on different sides...
I will not burn it.