January bumped into me, like a hurried woman, pushing her grocery trolley through, to answer her crying child. I heard a "sorry," and tried dusting off the inevitable pain. The cry never stopped, and so did not the pain.
I limped, holding my ankle, and rang the bell. February dropped the keys from the balcony. The substrate went unmatched with the lock, and I could reach the bell no more, with the throbbing ankle.
March, came running, downstairs, gave me a hand to get back up, through the bars of the door and steadily opened the door, to let me in. The pain was replaced by numbness and my heart felt grateful to celebrate a hand.
April, tend to look at my ankle swell, and gave enough warmth for the numbness to subside, steadily. It brought with it, some ice packs and hope, that made it possible to see blood flow through, again.
May, had me raised up on my leg, and held hands as I limped through the days. And a day from nowhere, fallen syllables caught for a better support than me and I, was left to the ground, and d a r k n e s s ~
The door went shut behind May.
June played well with light. Placing candles in front of me, and blowing them off, as I tried to seek and search for support to stand back up, and walk out of blackness and suffocation.
July was kind enough to light the candles, and bring in storms to blow them off, instead of doing it herself. Her kindness drilled a little hole in the ceiling, and that showed all the stars, falling from the sky, I couldn't wish upon.
August had me waking up all surprised to see the woman who pushed through in January. She returned to me the days of happiness, that fell into her trolley, from my pocket, an eight months back. She gave with it, a day from hers, which quoted humanity on the top of the cue card.
September slid some love, from under the door. I collected it to make some fire, and create some warmth, around me. At the end, the love made the fire grow; Grow bigger enough to swallow the cue cards of happy days from that woman. All swallowed up, my tears, put the fire out.
October accompanied me in sending some rain everywhere. Stronger rains to seap through my walls and drench my wallpaper, and smudging away stories, I wrote behind them.
November, finally opened the shut door, but just to let me get some fresh air, of all bitter coldness. As the days flew past one another, November, grew more bitter on coldness and added in few more rains, to completely drench the love, and make it unfit for a fire.
December let sun's rays seap through that hole in my ceiling, which only had falling stars shown, days before and sent a wind forceful enough, to shut the door, back on my face. She just slid me the key.
But, I fear the woman, awaiting me outside, now. I fear using the key to turn right, again.
~ ©️ sapphire stella.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hi!
Becoming A Poet, is my compilation of my journey towards becoming the poet, I am today. The neglects faced, the ignorance threw upon, the wars fought, the poems gone unwritten, everything finds it's way into this book.
The life Of a Poet, gifted to all Poets out there, by, the Poet in me, Becoming~ A Poet.
Don't forget to turn the star orange and do drop in your comments on what do you expect on the next part!
Loves,
Ms. Stella 🤍
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BECOMING A POET
Poetry"I am a poet. I write to promise that syllables hear, every voice gone unheard, and rhymes give a voice to every word silenced, and the universe within watches every moment of life, gone unseen." Becoming A Poet, is my compilation of my journey towa...
