The latch won't catch

The latch won't catch.

I've tried twenty times,

spent an hour

with my hands on the mechanism,

cold metal that won't cooperate.

It hangs open like a mouth

that can't close,

like a question

I can't answer.

I could call someone.

I could look it up.

Instead I stand here

with my hands still on the broken thing,

trying to make it work

through sheer will,

through repetition,

through the small violence

of forcing something

that doesn't want to be forced.

It stays open.

Everything inside

stays visible,

exposed,

refusing to be hidden.