The Twist Of The Knife Poem by Diana Holinski

You stand apart from me
Close enough to touch me
Close enough to feel my heartbeat
Yet the chasm between us
Feels immeasurable

You call me to the door
Then keep me on the stoop
Not asking me in
Yet not turning me away
Because you were robbed
Of your most precious possession
You take no chances
Trusting no one
Not even your own heart
Its voice you choked silent
But you have me there under the doormat
Like the spare key
Should you ever find yourself locked out
You’ve locked yourself inside your defeated heart
Entombed there, as with bricks and mortar
Leaving only a peephole
To peer out at the imitation of life
You toy with the pleasures
Of pretend love
Not denying your body
Or your ego
The sweetness of passion
The strokes of being so desired
Those carnal pursuits you could live without
Yet you deny your heart the love
That could fortify it
The one thing you need above all else

You mourn and weep for what
Can never again be yours
Reveling, it seems, in your heartache
And rebuff what is offered
Preferring the twist of her knife
To the soft embrace of the love
I long to wrap you in