There is a door I have never opened,
a threshold I have never crossed,
but I feel it call,
in the quiet hum of every moment
when I forget to breathe.
Beyond these walls, peeling and bare, where shadows pool in the cracks and the air hums with old regrets,
I dream of space untouched by dust, of rooms that do not echo with longing.
I know the rules,
the lines that keep me tethered to the world as it is-
these narrow halls, the flickering bulb,
the weight of yesterday pressing through thin walls.
But what is it to live
if the edge is never tested, if the skin of the world
is never pried apart
to see what lies beneath?
I am drawn to the places where shadows are thickest,
where the air trembles with unspoken things.
I need to know what it feels like to break the seal of silence,
to walk where others fear to go,
where the weight of the forbidden sings like a song in the bones.
What is it to touch the flame without the fear of being burned? What is it to stand at the edge and look into the abyss
without the certainty that you will fall?
There is a hunger in me,
not for destruction,
but for the unraveling,
for the sweet release
that comes when I step
just beyond the line
and taste what freedom is.
I am not afraid of the dark, but of what I will find
when the light is gone
and I am alone with the truth of all I could become.