Tantrum.

He found himself back at her doorstep,
Tenderising his knuckles on her threshold,
While his feet felt like they were sinking through the concrete.
Silence.
The little child within was pulling down on his stomach and ribcage,
Down, down, down.
Stomping its grubby, impish feet with impatience and he felt himself sink lower.

"Why?! Why do all my questions start with why?"
"Why are you never there when I need you?"
Silence.
His lips drooped, feeling as if they were about to slide off his face.
His eyelids descended on what felt like dirty puddles,
He clasped and shook the doorknob half-heartedly.
She never responded to shallow demands.
He knew that.
But it only intensified his need.
It happens every time.