The Blue Days

Some days the curtains won’t close tight enough,

the mattress won’t sink deep enough

and despite clutching at the duvet,

pinning it around desperate limbs,

drafts still snake their way in.

On those days it doesn’t matter how tight

I screw my eyes shut,

the light is always there behind my lids,

prickling, waiting, demanding

that I emerge and acknowledge it.

Those were the days I didn’t leave my bed.

The ones I missed class and didn’t explain why.

A time I don’t ignore,

but I still can’t name in confidence.

I let it sit in my memory

like storm clouds on a horizon,

not close enough to worry on,

but a reminder that the sun doesn’t always shine

and I haven’t always managed to smile

instead of cry.

6 Comments

  1. Can totally relate to your poem…especially the lines “I let it sit in my memory,like storm clouds on a horizon,not close enough to worry on”
    Loved your poem 🙂

    Reply

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