"Those were hard things for me to come by, and I offer them to you for what they may be worth." - Toby Wolff

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Construction of Indecision

I keep my hand on the knob
clenching and unclenching with fearful muscles
tired ones,
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
and yours.

I want to reconstruct this door
additional panels
glass panes
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.


  1. My door is always open.
    I love the varied observations of "a door"....so many choices1 A door lets you in or keeps you out!

    1. I need to come visit you soon and be crafty in your awesome rooms of inspiration!

  2. Hi Annie... this reminds me of a dream I had after I divorced. In the dream, I was inside the cargo bay of an Air Force cargo plane... and we were flying not too much above tree-top level.

    It was either early morning, or late evening. That's how the lighting seemed outside.

    The door across the fuselage from me was open, and I could see the tree tops moving past... and I had this urge to jump. So, with my back against the side of the plane, I started backing away from the open door, feeling safer as I got further away from the open door, only to eventually find another open door right across from me.

    I wish all to be well for you...



    1. I don't know about dreams. They are fraught with anxiety for me. Perhaps the full panic we cannot allow in our waking lives tries to have its say through our dreams? Who knows, but your dream would have had me sweating. I don't like heights...tree lined or otherwise :)

  3. The earth,the wind...the water ...let it be...they let us be...until we don't...a fantastic self exploring poem...But Annie you need to give it a rest...For a moment or two..

    1. Ha! You are tired of hearing about my struggles :) Can't say I blame you Manik. But I am not at this door as often as perhaps I once was. I am making progress is self acceptance. This poem was actually inspired by someone else and the struggle they have to make decisions, to act on or withhold action related to impulse. This whole poem is a moment of decision deconstructed. It all happens so quickly, and yet all of this engagement has occured...at least for me.

  4. I like the door becoming a bridge that won't be burned. Sometimes it's easier if the choice is made for us, but less satisfying in the end, I believe. I love "resolve wavers like a hiccup". Great line, but only one of many.

    1. Those two lines wrote themselves, as all the good lines do :) It's a good point you make Yvonne, easier is not always beneficial.

  5. How about just a screen door that I can see you through?

    1. Concrete thinking...black or white thinking...it's a problem I have. Refreshingly, you can see outside the box of two extremes or two choices. A screen door could be a successful compromise between two choices.

  6. Whoa that ending!!!! How you've mixed the door and the bridge so seamlessly is a sight to behold.

    I love how you acknowledge, accept, reconstruct, face and not face this door of yours. Excellent writing, my girl!
    I'll think about this one today, because who doesn't have doors that let in and keep out?

    Xoxoxoxo to you, Annie

    1. I wish I could take credit KJ, but that last bit just crept in there. I immediately understood it, and the poem ended. Bam! It is important to own up to my process if there is ever hope of change :)


  7. A beautiful, metaphorical poem about doors and your situation. I feel your pain and your indecision, but also your strength. I've been in this place in my past and I feel your pain...

    Yes, to a good, old-fashioned screen door. One with swans in flight and cattails swaying where those inside and outside are equals. Keep scribbling, Annie, and never, ever, ever give up. Nothing worthwhile is ever easy...I love you, dear friend. xoxo

    "There are things known and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors of perception..." ~Aldous Huxley

    1. Perception. That's the word of the hour inside this brain. Trying so hard not to have any. Trying so hard not to correct them. Trying so hard not to try so hard :) What a name! Aldous. Good quote my Marion!

  8. you really grabbed ahold of me at the end.

    I wrote a short story about a door, what was on the other side of the door, the horror of it. you are dead on, it is a bridge and it should not be burned.

    1. Ya know...truth be told, I thought I was going to receive a lot of comment flack for that line. I understood it, but it didn't explain itself nor did I feel the need to speak beyond what the few words had to say. So I'm a little surprisd (with a small measure of self vindication) that others connected with it. Thanks Monkey! I'm really rooting for your breasts my friend! Hope you are seeing positive progress :)

  9. Wonderful. I like how it ends. Some doors are so hard to deal with… some times I pass through them as fast as I can, and feel for a moment like I have escaped.

  10. We fear the unknown is that why we fear doors so much? But yet we need them.

    I think my door is broke right now...

  11. I felt every word. Thank you for moving me, Annie.


Thank you for listening.