Lyric

I opened the door too gently

Like the handle might bruise

The air came out to meet me

Wearing someone else’s shoes

The walls had kept their color

The stairs knew where to bend

Nothing stood against me

Nothing called me in

I did not lose the entrance

I lost the life beyond it

The Key Still Fits, But I Don’t

I can cross the line

I can stand inside the hallway

And still be left behind

The house is not refusing me

The lock has not forgot

I can open every room here

And belong to none of what I’ve got

The mirror held my shoulders

In a frame I used to trust

I looked almost familiar

Under settled dust

There was no great disaster

No voice that told me go

Just the quiet mathematics

Of a place I used to know

Some endings keep their furniture

Some departures keep their door

I can touch the banister

I can name the cracks

I can follow every shadow

To the years I can’t get back

The house is not refusing me

That almost makes it worse

I was not locked outside it

I outgrew the universe

Maybe home is not a shelter

Maybe home is a size

Something built around your body

Before you learn to leave it behind

And maybe growing older

Means standing in the light

Of a place that still can hold you

But no longer holds you right

So I turned the key back slowly

Let the old door rest

There was mercy in the closing

There was grief in being blessed

I did not need a witness

I did not need a sign

Some doors keep opening for you

After you have left that life