Falling Up

an ending

For those who are confused, this is not an end to this series of poems, but an end in another sense.

This is an end of a chapter, the end of a story all on its own.

But everyone likes to talk about how 'when one door closes, another opens' but i have been frantically searching for a new door. I just want a new door, but it seems as if even that is too much to ask for.

I have been running down hallways, screaming into deadbolts, hoping they would pry themselves open and my answer would be standing behind the door. I hoped the answer would distract me from the other slamming shut behind me, locking away my unsatisfactory ending.

But no answer comes, and i stand in the wake of the heart wrenching sound of my old entry creaking closed. I have no distraction. I have no escape.

I simply sit, calmly, in front of the weathered wood, watching it close, watching the crack grow smaller and smaller. I watch until my mind can no longer take the hurt.

And then i rise. I wander in empty halls, hoping for an answer to fight its way into my vision.

Sounds echo off the stark walls, and i find myself making conversations out of the lonesome noises. Because i, like those reverberations, have become ever so lonely. Without her to guide my mind, i feel as if i have lost grip on the reigns, but i cannot complain. I cannot exude this hurt in any way apart from words scattered across this surface. So that, maybe, someone will see it. I refuse to be the force that drives her to acts that i used to try so hard to prevent. I refuse to make myself a bad person simply for the sake of hurt.

So i wander, and wander.

And wander.

Until i encounter another ending.