Knock, knock
Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Him.
Him, who?
Him, pain.
Here we go again,
another ride that leads to pain,
disguised as love,
disguised as protection and provision.
How could I have known?
Knock, knock,
Who’s there?
Him,
Him, who?
Him, depression.
Another ride into despair,
a ticking bomb waiting to explode
on my desperate search for peace.
How could I have known?
Knock, knock,
Who’s there?
Him,
Him, who?
Him, pillow-tears.
Here we go again,
another ride to crying myself to sleep,
remembering all the love I poured into him,
now tears fall silently on my pillow each night,
a heartbreaking story only my tears can tell.
How could I have known?
Knock, knock,
Who’s there?
Him,
Him, who?
Him, let go.
It’s time.
Let go.
Cry no more.
You did your best.
Be at peace.
Do not carry this burden.
It’s time.
Let go.
