Bathroom Door
You peek from the inside
of the bathroom door
You wandered your eyes to
see
who knocked, until you
lower down your sight
And saw me, with my milk
bottle
now lying on the green
rag underneath the door.
You smiled and pinched my
nose
You pick me up then carry
me inside
Our laughs echoed the
bathroom as
we splashed water to each
other.
. . .
You peek from the outside
of the door as I struggle putting off my pajama
My short legs cannot even
reach the lid of the toilet bowl
You laughed and messed up
my hair
“Let me carry you up,
honey!”
I let you carry me up,
wait for you to leave me
but
you stayed, and sing to
me instead
A song that you also sang
to my sisters every bathroom time.
. . .
You knocked on the door
Twice... thrice … a
couple of hurrying knocks
and repeatedly calling my
name
You pushed the door and
went inside
when I didn’t answer.
I quickly hid the fabric
on my back then
heaved a nervous, “Ma…”
. .
You threw me a teasing
look then pinched my cheeks.
We talked inside the
bathroom as I’m washing the cloth
You told me it’s only
normal for girls like me
and I believe you.
You told me to put extra
love for myself now that I’m older
and be careful not to
fall without looking.
. . .
You knocked on the door
for a hundred times since
I went inside.
I’m being wary for you to
not hear a single cry
You stopped calling and
everything becomes silent.
I felt alone.
Sure, it’s true that
heartaches are unbearable.
The door went open.
You stormed inside then
hugged me
You simply knew
everything co’z you’re my mother
and you knew me by heart.
. . .
Now there are no more knocks on the
bathroom door
But I’m here. Again.
But, alone.
If you were still here,
there will be echoes of
laughter not sobs.
If you were still here,
I probably wouldn’t be
able to carry myself
up
and hanged
my ---.
Lovely poem there. The Philippines is full of talents.
TumugonBurahin