"I have lived on the lip
of insanity, wanting to know reasons,
knocking on a door. It opens.
I've been knocking from the inside."
It's about time I realized that doors do open. That every time it's not a wrong one. That finding the right key takes time. That sometimes there's a dusty alley of doors inside us that need to be opened first. So that the sunlight can creep in through some headstrong cobwebs, and certain caged birds can be freed.