Knocking at the Door of Your Heart

I stood outside sweating in the sun –

knocking at the door of your heart.

But You refused to open the door and let me in.

It seems to me,

the door becomes coated with ice at my very touch.

The first time it happened I thought you were asleep

to our potentials.

So I tried to rouse you a little;

But I have burns to show for my exertions.

.

Today I am standing still in the rain,

hoping you will have pity on me

and warm the frost which seems to ooze

from you at my very touch.

For helpless I stand;

Neither can I bash my way in,

nor can I catalyse the reaction by

which the compound LOVE is formed,

or …!

.

It seems too much a thought to contemplate.

That you have someone else in there,

Occupying that special position that

I so much crave.

The contemplation throws daggers at my ego.

Now I know of no greater torture,

Than to want and not be wanted;

To desire to love – not knowing yet

the reaction of the other party.

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