My door became a wall.
Tall, concrete, permanent.
You entered without a key, how?
Was my door not locked?
Must not have been, only explanation.
It’s my fault isn’t it?
I could have sworn I had closed it and even if I didn’t,
You had no permission and no right to violate my privacy.
I used to think I had a choice.
I used to think it mattered.
I used to have a door.
Now there is a wall.
Cold and hard just like my heart.
Perhaps having a door meant maybe,
Now that there is a wall,
I hope you understand what I mean when I say NO.