As soon as I heard the tone of your voice
I knew I would change the story.
Right there, sitting on the step,
with the phone still warm against my ear,
I said out loud “It will not end this way.”
I never looked back.
I just cut a hole through the wall,
and changed the language of doors.
©2013 Jen Payne. IMAGE: The Open Door, Leon Spilliaert, 1945
If you like this poem, you’ll LOVE the Divine Intervention issue of MANFEST (zine)