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  • Tyniah Smith

My Door

A door is still a door. 

Even when it's open, it beckons with promise of comfort 

And privacy. 

Yet it harbors secrets untold. 

The secrets of the whispers in the walls from friends. 

The cries of help that have now been answered. 

Not just wood and chipped paint.

When its closed, shadows lurk waiting for that 

Promise to break.

Promise that you can still be you and be safe. 

The treasures  shown to the one who opens the doors.

The glass door of fragility. 

The steel door of truth. 

The front door of welcoming.


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