My Key? | Teen Ink

My Key?

January 10, 2011
By katie717 GOLD, Phoenix, Arizona
katie717 GOLD, Phoenix, Arizona
10 articles 0 photos 8 comments

Favorite Quote:
"This world is but a canvas to our imagination." -Thoreau


And if I shed them,
And if you don't like it,
Well, I will not cry.
Because tears show weakness.
The glass will not break
And my scars will not show now,
Because I've shed them.
And what's underneath?
I don't know.
But whatever is there now,
Where the mask used to
Be,
It's gone.
And my scars will not show now
Because I've shed it.
The skin under my mask, raw,
It itches and burns.
It begged for exposure, then.
But that was back then.
Your words? They sting me. I hide.
But my scars will not show now,
Because I'm stronger.
And I stepped into that night,
And I said three words.
Guilt battled love in my heart.
Selfishness won.
But your scars just might show now,
Because I made them.
And when the door slammed, I cried.
The glass? Well, it broke.
But the glass breaks, and sometimes,
Just sometimes,
I love you.
That door? Way over there? Well,
It opened,
But it just opened barely.
I've knocked there before.
Guilt frequents the residence.
But this time, I pushed.
Slam, Click.
A tear slipped out of your sight.
Across the street there's a house.
The door was painted.
I liked the color, but no.
The wood, it rots.
My fingers touched the cross here.
Here, around my neck.
There is a God.
There is a God?
The door opened then. Knock, knock.
I stood in the frame,
But the shutter was too fast.
The doors are still there.
But I seem to have misplaced
My key.
Well, I will not cry.
Because tears show weakness.
The glass will not break,
And my scars will not show now,
Because I've shed them.
And what's underneath?
A locked door. My key?


The author's comments:
Everything in this is a symbol. This just covers a year of my life in poetic symbolism.

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