The door will not open,
it has been knocked off the track,
off the hook, off the path,
it is stuck shut.
There are words that ring out, though,
and carry through its periphery
through the walls and the locks.
I hate you
The pound hits the ceiling,
and the years have piled up beside them,
where they have forgotten everything.
We never loved each other
The shatter is so audible that it is deafening,
reverberating everywhere,
landing on the place closest to the heart.
This is over
The things said are not even the truth,
it is only anger and sadness and pain,
yes, that is the place they have come from.
This only just started
Stand there, taking a drag of a cheap cigarette,
watching the scene, waiting to see what is next,
as if this is a movie on TV.
This is my nightmare.