One door too many.

There’s a door.
I can sense it.
I don’t know what’s inside,
maybe it’s me I’m opening.
There could be darkness.
If so I’d be content.
I’d give it a go
to prove a point of pointlessness.

Can’t recall the steps,
so how did I end up here?
Isn’t it all the same?
The twists equal the turns?
Not fair to the guide, but,
all in truth, no faith, not brave,
just energy to disperse,
heavy dose of “get me outta here”.

It must’ve been silent,
then why do I hate the noise?
Can’t pay off the voices
so they just up & left.
Fill myself with
whatever I can grab,
how it comes to be, a piece of you
on what’s left of me.

A door too many,
stepping onto the balcony.
It’s all somber & majestic.
The birds are mocking me,
“you don’t belong here,
the air’s thin, the sun’s gonna kill.”
Where am I supposed to go?
After one door too many?

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