Silence Ajar - a poem

Wonder if I’ve felt like this before,
Standing about, talking nonsense.
The door to my heart ajar,
no welcome mat to greet.
Only periodic cries of silence,
Wafting from the windowsill.

And here I am, watching the clock,
Watching the door.
Watching my life like a movie reel,
Reality tepid brown and faded.
Heart’s grown bland,
No use for the door
Just no longer here anymore.

Shards of my heart,
Fragments of my mind,
What is it worth?
Palms on the windowsill,
Scream out into the night,
And silence retorts,
Sneers mockingly at me,
My mouth agape, face aghast.

Then turning once about,
Even silence disappears,
Slips ‘round the corner,
Sarcastic lips upturned.

And still, watching the clock,
Watching the door.