number 27 | a poem

Happy Birthday to you! (3) (1)


these rain drops line my courtyard like
the string lights in my room
except all those lights bring me happiness
and you’re a sign of doom

i am
afraid of stepping out
perhaps because being wet, being soaked
brings me nothing but despair
i’m soaked in grief, wet with sorrow
i’m afraid of tomorrow
i won’t step out again is what i make myself

my courtyard is empty
it’s bare
it’s the only one out of the other twenty seven
on my road
it’s alone in it’s misery
no plants to liven up the floor
none of those lamps
just a grey door where grey unfolds

inside the living room is where i stand
and the rain won’t stop
sometimes i wish it could wash away the grey
bring back the blue
and make no sound
because there’s more to listen to than the rain droplets
lining my courtyard
and there’s more to do than drying up this pain

sometimes i wish i was of more use

it feels like my feet are jammed
to the lowest floor of my house
but at times i manage
to escape as i climb up those stairs
it’s a spiral staircase
which leads to my room
where my string lights are intact
and there is no grey
just blue

i switch them on
and gaze about
no more sounds, no more sounds



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