NurseSheGirl

I’ve stood before a thousand doors,
With unsure hands, on aching floors.
Some opened wide and pulled me through,
Some stayed locked no matter what I’d do.

I’ve knocked until my knuckles bled,
Believing love was just ahead.
Convinced if I could knock once more,
Someone would want me past that door.

I’ve begged at thresholds, called a name,
And wondered if I was to blame.
I changed my shape, became less loud,
Bent myself small, my head still bowed.

Some doors swung open like a flame,
And nothing afterward felt the same.
Exciting, wild, burning light,
But fire isn’t always right.

Some doors were quiet, warm, and slow,
The kind I almost didn’t know.
No frantic knocking, no demands,
Just steady hinges, gentle hands.

And some I opened far too fast,
Because they looked like doors from past.
Familiar pain can feel like home,
When it’s the only road you’ve known.

But now I’m learning doors can close,
With no regard to my oppose.
A lock is not a verdict cast,
Sometimes a doorway simply passed.

I do not have to pound and plead,
Or prove that I deserve a key.
I don’t belong outside a place
That makes me beg to have some space.

Perhaps the bravest thing I’ll do
Is turn away and seek what’s new.
To leave the doors that make me chase,
And find the ones that offer grace.

And maybe someday I’ll understand
The greatest key was in my hand.
That peace was never through a door,
It lived inside me long before.

So let them open, let them close,
Let life decide which way it goes.
I’ll walk toward calm instead of wars,
And stop mistaking locks for doors.