My gift to You

Damn you! Damn you! Damn you!
Yes, you! The only other one to have found
The key with which to open that rusted door.
You, the only one to have opened the door.
You, the one to have picked up my heart's remains
And rebuild it. Holding the pieces together with
Your patience, kindness, and love.
The only one to have seen that vivacious vigor
At its best. The door remained open for as long
As you stayed, but your work is done, so now you
Leave. With each step you take, the rusted door
Closes. When you have been wrapped round by
The darkness with which my heart is surrounded,
You hear the heavy clang of the door as it shuts,
And the rattle of the chain being replaced.
You continue on, not knowing that the work and effort
that you went to will not last without you.
As the wind blows in your hair, you hear the whistle of
An approaching object. Coming from the direction you just
Left. It lands at your feet, it's the key. On the wind you hear
"Take it, it is yours. You found it. You are always welcome. Keep in touch. That is my gift to you. My Thanks." You continue on and stop when you hear a whisper,
"Remember, Crim, ' Hell, hath no fury like that of a woman scorned '."