i am too much for you, even now that you can no longer call me yours
(yours, do you remember that? always yours. i wrote it in your birthday card. i wrote it and meant it and now it doesn't matter. yours, do you remember that?)
i am too much, still, even now that i won't talk about how much i feel anymore.
i think i broke off the doorknob to my chest when i let you in the first time. i think it fell off into my hand, bloody and pulsing and begging to be placed back; i think the door is wide open now, and everything is pouring out onto the porch. i think i'm making a mess of myself again. i think you don't quite catch what i'm thinking.
the door is ajar and you are always welcome. i know the mat in front of the door is covered in tears and ink and lighter fluid and blood, but it still says 'welcome'
(i wrote it in myself)
if you really look at it. the door is open and all of the windows are open and the roof has too many holes in it, so you can get in that way, too, if you want. it it getting very cold in here, but i've left it all open for you. it is getting very cold, but i'm hoping you'll meet me soon. it is very cold in here, and i am very cold, and i think that i am freezing a little bit
(yours, do you remember that? i wrote it in myself)
, but i'm hoping you'll come in.
the stairs are frozen over but they will thaw if you step on them, if they feel the soles of your shoes they will warm. the stairs are creaky but i think you should see that as inviting; they are a little broken, but they want you just as much as i do. please tread softly on the stairs, or you will slip. please walk up the stairs
(the door is open for you. yours, do you remember that? always. i wrote it in myself. the door is open for you).
the porch light is on, and its been on for a little longer than i planned. i left it on so you could make your way up the stairs. the lightbulb may die soon, so please make use of the light now
(i am freezing a little bit. the door is open for you. the stairs are creaky. i wrote it in myself. yours, do you remember that? a little broken, but they want you. always)
a note from the artist-
i think most of my art comes from feeling 'too much'—i've been told since i was very small that i'm a little bit much, a little too emotional, a little too desperate, involved, worried, etc. i think this comes from that same place; i am a small person with a very big heart, and that is the source of all of my creations. letting someone into that heart is a very foreign and wild and intimate thing, i think, and the most obvious poetic analogy for that is leaving the door open for someone. so, this was born!
Follow Alyssa on Instagram @weakkmoon