Barely Open Door

There's a door
Between my present life
And the bond we once had.
You tried to close it
Slowly
So that I wouldn't see it shut.
But I noticed it. I noticed it the second you started to close it.
I stuck my foot in between the door and the frame,
Preventing you from closing it all the way.
I've tried to go through the door
But you won't let me.
My side of the door is wrecked.
There are dents, scratches, cracks.
I've pounded on the wood for hours on end,
Screaming for you to let me back in.
While your side remains unscathed.
You walked away from our door,
Not even caring that it still remains open.
You walk around, unbothered,
Unaware of me peeking through the crack.
I refuse to take my foot out, refuse to walk away.

I can't let the door close, can't risk you locking it
And then throwing away the key.
I wonder how long it will take for you to open it, or if I'll sit here forever.