doors

Your cheshire smile is radiant in the darkness.
Once, I thought you were;
scarred
sadistic
human, but blessed with virtuous innocence.

Are we swimming now. . . or is it drowning?
Is this what memories are made of?
And where will we be when tomorrow opens?

Lost in a haze of understanding
Locked in a cabinet, of closing doors,
emotionally green, and painfully different. . .