The Doorway
before and after
Eating food because I know I must. But all I want to do is throw the plate against the wall. I’m arguing with myself — I would have changed everything, I would have changed nothing. I want to do what is right, I want to reject reality. And I can’t bring myself to tell anyone. I’m not ready for their pity, I can’t face the look in their eyes, I can’t perform grief for them. My brain is standing in the doorway between those two moments before and after — asking how they can belong to the same day. I look at his bed, his toys remember that impish look in his eyes, and in my heart I know — they belong to another time. I argue with myself again — I would have changed everything. I would have changed nothing. I stand in the doorway And stare at the old life. Barely breathing — Unable to move.


Thank you for sharing this. The whole poem is painfully honest.