NLL (17.05.1981 / The Molten Core)

The Locked Door

Do not stare at me under the glare of the sun,
nor kiss my lips before night has begun,
Do not wrap your arms around me till you are asleep.
nor try and hold me until i have become old and week.

Do not send me flowers until i am dead,
give them to your mother instead,
Do not speak to me nicely until i see red,
speak nicely to your father instead.

I am a man and i dont do emotions well,
from the above i guess you can tell,
I am a closed door,
yet you, you are the key.
and i am so scared for you are slowly unlocking me.

once open what then, will everything come crashing in,
what torments, what pains what dirt will it bring.
you reassure me that only clean feet will come through the door
yet how can i be sure,
trust me, you said,
and with that you cuddled me,
then a creak,
and the door opened a little more.

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Comments (4)

A lovely poem, Gina sent me here to read it in a comment on my 'A Relationship, of Sorts'. I can see why. I like the metaphor of the door/key - works beautifully! Don't forget to keep the hinges well-oiled (but I'm not saying you should keep her spoiled) . -chuck
i really like how you express yourself and i like how you use an item as you.i think you are good as you are like me you base this pome on your fellings.kelly
Here's hoping the 'pains', 'torment', and 'filth' that you anticipate will come your way as you fall in love will wither before they reach you, as your lover says. Instead, let her 'clean feet' tread their way gently to your heart.
perhaps, after some love experiences, you could write poems of a different long as they are different from now...that's what matters. go for it.