And Every Time

He would knock,
Knock, knock,
And she would not answer.

He would call to her,
He would have heard
Her walking around,
Breathing, existing
Just beyond the door
And she would not answer.

He would pound violently,
The door shuddering
Under his heavy fist,
And she would not answer.

Then frustration would
Seep away like rain water
Into storm drains, leaving
Behind resignation that
Would wrap around him
And lead him away,
And she would not answer.

She would not answer.
She should not answer.

Her ears had to be deaf
To his knocks,
To his calls,
To him.

To her,
He must not exist,
A mere shifting of air
But this was not
Her choice, simply
Her truth.

The truth is
She could not see
A man who did not exist,
A man who was
A figment of her
Beautiful mind.

So the doctors say,
So her family say,
So the people who walk
The earth beside her say,
And so she grew
To say the same.

And only when his steps
Had melted away
Would she open the door
To prove to herself
That he really wasn't there.

And every time,
He would be standing
Beyond the threshold
Waiting for her to
Embrace her insanity.