Footsteps beyond the door.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
You distinguish your father's slow, thoughtful trod.
Your mother's overbearing, deliberate march.
You sister's careful, timid waltz over eggshells-turned-landmines.
Always pacing.
Never in sync.

You wonder where you fall into the monotonous menagerie.
Where your footsteps fall beyond closed doors.
Why your mother's always worried.
Why your dad is never quite right.
Why your sister hides herself away.
Always pacing.
Never happy.

What will it be like when you're gone.
Will your stride lengthen and set you free,
Or will silent shackles set in.
You stretch your legs, put on your shoes,
Stare at the door.
Always pacing.
Never ready.

This is your life.
These are your dreams.
Although they may come after you, you run.
Run for the bright lights that may blind you or serve as your spotlight.
Always pacing.
Never looking back.