Running Into a Closed Door
A poem about longing for closeness that keeps its distance — fragments of warmth, a kitchen of kisses, and the silence that follows.
1 min readmemory
I did not want to be strong.
I wanted to be close to you.
Not in words,
but in the quiet ways— in staying, in caring,
in seeing you smile, in not letting go when things grew heavy.
I bent myself into softer shapes,
longing to fit
where love kept its distance.
I bended patiently,
and hoped in hunger
for a heart that wouldn't open fully.
when I needed it most.
You were warmth at night,
and cold in the mornings. I was loving someone who was present in fragments.
Can chemistry turn into commitment?
Once, our house was joyful— with kisses in the kitchen,
Lotus calling your name
again and again.
Lying on your chest
always feels so much like love.
But now I stand in the silence,
wondering where that life went.
…