Regrets and the Back Room (spoken word)

I have tried ten thousand ways
to just be quiet,
but I can't be.

I walked 80,000 steps
to get to this scowling driveway
before your house
and I won't leave
until you answer
my soft knocking
on your door.

You told me
all too gently,
that it was over

But I could hear it
in your voice,
you

m a y b e

wanted

m o r e.

[You maybe wanted more.]

So I packed a dozen things
and hit the road.
And now I shake
like twisted willows
on this porch.

The sky is raining needles,
I can feel them on my back,
like hatchets on a see-saw,

Up and down
left and right,
dripping through the roof cracks

overhead.

Maybe I'd be better off
d e a d

But I need it, one more time,
your breath upon my stare...
that heat and raging peace
to calm this war.

Then, creaking, as it opened,

(I get it)

There you are.

And then It's your stare,
and my breath,
and your glare,
and my tears,
and your thumb, there..

pointing backwards to that room.

And off we go.