They say the eyes are windows to the soul
The mouth, a doorway to your thoughts & your goals.
Have you drawn your curtains back and locked the bolt?
I came over to talk, but you want to be left alone.
I knock and knock, but you pretend you're not home.
Why aren't you inviting me inside? Hello?
Are you scared to open the door? You don't want me to see the mess?
Would you be surprised to hear that I'm no stranger to internal chaos and stress?
I lost someone too, a different connection
A guardian, a protector, a man of perfection
Now I'm left with a hole, unfilled as can be.
I stop by your house in hopes we can meet.
When I walk by, I see a light flicker inside.
A spark shining through those window-like eyes.
Does that mean that you're doing alright?
What caused that quick spark?
Beams of light, streaming into the dark.
Was it the memory of him or another remark?
The door cracks open when I call his name.
A hint of a smile, and a bit of disarray.
You cry and laugh and tremble with anger.
You drop the glass from your hand and it makes a clangor
What have I done? Do I ignore his existence?
Act as though he's just as a memory in the distance?
His name causes a quiver in the lawn of your home.
The house start shaking-- are you earthquake-prone?
It looks like the pipes burst. I see water pooling up in the window domes.
Now I understand why you kept the door closed.
The foundation of your house is weak and decomposed.
You were worried the stone-decay and wood-rot would be exposed.
The shut-door kept the house standing. Now the house is collapsing.
I wonder what I could have done to stop everything from crashing.
It's hard to know what to do-- I don't want to see you cry.
But, crying is healthy and you need to mourn your goodbyes.
Do you want to talk about him? Am I helping or hurting?
Now I understand, you just didn't want to be a burden.
I decide to speak his name, and tears run out your eyes
Yet, you thank me for sitting there and letting you cry
The clouds above move out of the skys
You were worried that, since I hadn't been through it, I wouldn't understand
Regardless, that wouldn't have impacted how I care and lend a hand
I still have ears that can listen, arms that can hug and legs that can help you stand.
Let me listen. Let me care. Let me talk.
I know you're not okay-- I won't mock.
I won't question, or judge or expect you to be anything other than simply surviving.
I'll be here to help with the yard work, cleaning and driving.
You're not yourself right now-- How could you be?
It's okay to open up and set it all free.