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Poetry :: Articles :: Caron
In Their Words

All poems that appear have been submitted and reprinted with the permission of the authors. Copyrights are retained by the original authors and you must contact them for permission to reprint. If you have a poem you'd like to submit yourself please send it to POETRY@something-fishy.com

Through One Door Too Many
by: Kyah Hollen

I have been told that when one door closes,
Another must open.
But what if I was the one closing the doors?
What if I were to go through one door too many
And there were no more doors left to open?

I know a place where the latter is true.
A while back, I wandered through the door of the basement.
The basement was murky, musty, and possibly dank.
As I noisily felt my way through the basement,
I slipped and fell.
I fell through a small door in the ground,
A trap door
And as I was falling, I heard a sound;
A sound that seemed to be a key in a lock, turning.
My body hit the ground with a jolt,
My hands groping at the ground--

I must have hit rock bottom
And I know there are no doors;
I can feel it.
The only way out is from whence I came;
The door is locked tightly, I am sure.
But how can I reach it when I am so far below?
Is there any way out?

Oh, the unbearable silence,
The torture
My fingers and toes turn to icicles
Nobody is looking for me
Why would anyone follow me through so many doors
All leading down?

Oh, the loneliness penetrating through my blood
My heart screams and sobs
Wrapping myself up in a tiny ball
In the middle of pitch-blackness
Where are the corners that bring me security?
My eyes darting from side to side, suddenly worried
Are there monsters down here?
The voices in my head screech and wail, fearful.

I remember the first door I slipped through;
It was the door leading to my bedroom
All the way up on the third floor
And I, locking myself behind it.
It was my first attempt at shutting out the world
Blocking myself from reality.
I wanted to seclude myself in a new world,
My world.

A world where there are no responsibilities
A world not akin to the pressures of society:
To be smart, to be glamorous, to be perfect.
And the harsh reality that I was not perfect.
So one by one, one after another,
I crept through door after door
Hoping that one day I would step through a door into
My own special little world.

This place that I am in, is this my world?
I loathe it here....in the depths of fear.
Why can�t I let myself be scared?
The lullaby that sings softly in my head,
It�s okay It�s okay It�s okay
Rocking my body back and forth
Like a mother rocking her infant
Trying ever so desperately to lull myself into a deep sleep
The trap door so high

Oh, the helplessness
Is there anyone lurking in the basement?
Somebody? Anybody?
My cries, lost in darkness.
Fatigued and weary
Who knows,
Maybe I just slid.......
Through one door too many

©2001 Kyah Hollen. Reprinted with Permission.

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