The Harder Part

The key was hidden years ago,
Beneath layers mortared in place
From a young age, until its mere existence
Became something of a legend,
Believed lost —
Or having never existed at all —
Something others had, that opened floodgates
Others left unguarded
 
And over time the lack of it served well,
Locking demons safely away,
Protecting from both inside and out,
Until the day the walls were shaken
And pieces tumbled to the ground
Inscribed with
Would have …
Could have …
Should have …
 
But the walls were patched,
Cracks in the exterior quickly mended,
The bits of rubble that still fell
Swept beneath the carpet not to be seen,
But they made the path uneven
Causing the occasional misstep in the dark,
Pebbles scrawled with
didn’t and why?
Collected before anyone could see
And stuffed into a box
Labelled don’t go there
 
But a ray of sunlight shone
Through a crack in the walls
And ice began to melt
Throwing the equilibrium off kilter
Just enough.
 
And the key —
It’s still elusive
But if you loosen your grip
And open your fingers
You might find it. 
The harder part
Will be
To use it.  



 

november, 2010