The Door Remains Open

If I have to wait for you, I’ll anchor my feet to the ground. Once to

give you your space, twice to hold the connection we’ve found. I’ll

watch the seasons change without asking them to stay, Remember the quiet

in our eyes, where words lost their way. A doorway left unlocked, a room

humming with old songs, I’ll leave the light right here, exactly where

it belongs.

A canvas of the memories, cloud brushes for your art. An artist hidden

beneath the armor, a glimpse of your delicate heart. The afternoon we

smiled, as your guarded hands let me in, Trusting me with a secret

written softly beneath your skin. A language of glances, a heavy,

electric call, Don’t ask me to rush you, because for your peace I would

weather it all.

The world called your name, you answered with measured grace, But I

still remember the masterpiece behind your practiced face. The silence

grew taller, as you returned to your work alone, But I am steady here,

as patient as water and stone. Not because you wanted to leave, but

because fear became too loud, And distance was the only shelter you felt

you were allowed.

Miss Independent is Miss too sensitive for her own good. The strongest

walls are often built by those misunderstood. You never had to explain

the storm that lived inside your chest, Some hearts survive by running

before they’re offered rest.

I’m not counting the days, I’m not asking for a sign. Some things are

too beautiful to rush before their time. Until the fierce storm in your

mind clears and your courage outruns your fear, You’ll find the door

exactly where you left it, and you’ll find me here. Not asking you to

become someone you’ve never been before, Only hoping you’ll discover

you’ve always been safe to open one more door.