POEM OF THE MONTH

BLUE CURTAINS

You see, everyone wants to know what’s wrong. Why the curtains are blue, why the holes aren’t mended, the stains aren’t clean.

They don’t understand why you feel like a burden.

They offer their help, but for how many times, as the pain isn’t a one night stand, but a sucking leech that won’t let go.

Holding you down is the weight of the people that surround you.

The people that wish to help, but not every night, as your own breath is your enemy, your chest is the knife, which you feel is stabbing into your friends, if you dare to ask more than once.

You see, the timeline is thin, for what people will put up with. Until they have thoughts of their own, till they smell the stench of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Binding you to your bed, with nothing but an empty phone.

You wish for their support, but the hourglass has run its course. The sand slips from your fingers, tugs on your hair, drives into your skin, no matter a few more scars. Cause you have convinced yourself that nobody is there.

Dawn breaks.

They expect a smile, or maybe a quick fix, for the few encouraging words that they don’t expect to say again, for their time and effort of half an hour. They expect too much, but don’t understand why,

The curtains are still blue. The holes aren’t mended.

And the stains aren’t clean.

DANA REMKES

Hamilton, NZ