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A Sign

She wishes there was a way
A way to know what to do.
Maybe a sign, a nudge in the right direction?
Maybe a compass like in that movie she saw.
She’s sitting, contemplating,
When there’s a knock on the door.
She waits, maybe she wouldn’t have to get up.
But the knockings pursue her attention, and so she stands.
She thinks about a creep answering the door
Or maybe her uncle locked himself out of the house again.
Nothing could’ve prepared her for what was behind that door.
 
She thought he wasn’t there.
She thought he was somewhere far, far away.
But that dumb hair, those dumb eyes.
His damn smile.
“How are you here?”
He just answered with a smile and pulled her into his arms.
 
Then she woke up in that bed.
Her eyes got wet, and she buried her face in the pillows.
She knew her heart was hurting, longing for that knock at the door.
But it never came.

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