Heavy Sound

The worn wood stairs, a familiar creak,

I heard his voice, before I'd speak.

My name, it rose, from down below,

not how I know it, soft and slow.

It hung there, thick, a foreign thing,

like some strange accusation it would bring.

A question mark, held in the air,

a heavy sound, a sudden stare

I felt within. My mouth went dry.

My fingers found the doorknob, why?

Just my name, a simple call.

But somehow, then, it held me thrall.