I Can't Find the Key

I want to know what lights you up
What drives your motives 
What breaks your heart. 
I want to know who you love the most
Who drives you crazy 
Who pushes you on. 
I want to know where you call home
Where you long to be 
Where you can't get far enough away from.
I want to know when you figured out your passions 
When you felt the most loved 
When you were most alive. 
I want to know what makes you tick 
What makes you you 
What makes you laugh until you cry. 

But the door is locked. 
I can't find the key. 
I tried to burn the door down
Or break the lock 
But it's standing strong as could be. 
There's only a little window
With a little view 
Of these treasures that I can see inside, 
But sometimes the lights are off
Or the window fogs up,
And I wait patiently for it to clear up. 
The only way this door will open 
Is if you open it from the inside. 

But I don't think you're home. 

There's no footsteps when I ring the doorbell 
No face in the window when I knock
No music playing in another room as I sit against the door and wait. 
Other people have shown up to the door

And sometimes I've stepped back to watch them try to get in

But they have also failed. 

Some keep trying, some have left. 

Well meaning people have told me to leave and I kindly rejected their advice. 

I was sure that if I waited...

But I still don't think you're home. 

So I'm going back to my own house

And I'm locking my door. 

I've taken in the spare key

And turned off the lights. 

If you want to find me 

You'll have to be the one to come knocking on my door. 

I won't be at yours anymore. 

I can't watch one more person try to knock on that door

That I thought would open for me, 

I can't keep knocking until my knuckles are sore

Or stand in the rain anymore. 

I can't keep sticking letters under the door,

Wondering if you actually read them.

But I don't think you'll be knocking on my door. 

I don't expect you to write back

Or wait for me in the rain

Or wait when my window fogs up. 

I don't expect you to care about what makes me tick

Or makes me laugh until I cry. 

There's a time to be hopeful, 

And a time to let hope die. 

It wasn't a time wasted by any means

And I'm not mad. 

I'm just finished knocking on a door of an empty house

Expecting a person to show up and pull me in

And lock the door behind us.