Open

Open

A Poem

 

Is it selfish to tell

Right after it happens?

Maybe so.

But I've never been generous.

 

I want it for me.

Or is it to satisfy?

Don't act like it wasn't coming, because

It was.

 

A list of feelings

Tacked to the window.

That's like me.

Or am I that open?

 

If I am,

What kind of open?

Because there are different kinds

of Open.

 

Am I open like a door, leading

Somewhere? Or like a

vast field, not leading you anywhere.

But you're aware of the Openness.

 

Maybe I'm neither.

Maybe I'm none of these things,

And I won't tell and I won't tack;

And certainly never lead.