The Doorway Habit

I stand in doorways like it’s a job.

Party doorway, kitchen doorway,

the mouth of the subway

where the air changes temperature

And you decide who you’re going to be.

﹁﹂

I say I’m just getting some fresh air.

I say I forgot something in the car.

I say brb, lol,

as if leaving is a joke

and not a reflex.

﹁﹂

It started young

watching adults slam doors

like punctuation.

I learned exits before I learned vows.

﹁﹂

Now, even in good rooms,

My body keeps a spare plan

folded behind my ribs.

I scan for keys,

for chairs I can slip past,

For the moment conversation turns sharp.

﹁﹂

Sometimes nothing is wrong.

Sometimes someone is laughing at me

And I don’t know it yet.

Both feel the same

until later.

﹁﹂

I touch the doorframe

as I pass through,

a little tap

Like, see? I can go.

I can go.

﹁﹂

And I do,

down the hallway,

into the night,

proving freedom

with every leaving,

but never quite arriving anywhere

That feels… done.