I turned the key, and as expected found
An empty, lonesome space within the box.
I didn’t think to find, this time around,
The void filled up behind the metal lock…
But hope is something I can’t seem to quench—
That little light, that flutters like a bird
Anticipating flight… till I am wrenched
Again to earth, aware that I’m absurd
For bothering to check again each day.
Afraid to look, unable to withhold
Myself. Habitual, and in a way
Degrading; yet expected, I am told.
So I continue opening the door,
Expecting nothing, hoping for much more.