Midnight Stars

by A.S. Winters

Image credit: Shui Sim on Unsplash

The curtain has been there

for almost as long as I can remember.

It's as dark as a shadow

and as heavy as the midnight stars.

Nothing twitches from behind it.

No light, sun-kissed summer breeze

or wild, raging tempest can lift it up. 

It just stays there, watching and waiting. 

Or is it me doing the watching and waiting? 

My icy blue eyes fixed ahead

at the stopper of all possibilities. 

The veil that I can reach for, but never touch. 

I take a deep breath-

but, just as my fingertips make contact,

they pull away abruptly again, 

as though burnt, curling in on themselves. 

Yet, the curtain continues to call,

specially on days where it seems 

like nobody wants me on stage.

The curtain is my way off. 

Still, I put one foot in front of the other,

tiny, baby steps, and slowly walk away. 

All the same, I can't help looking back at it-

the Eurydice to my Orpheus. 

I guess I was the one waiting, all along. 

But it's no way to live. It never was.

***

A.S. Winters

A.S.Winters is an upcoming 22-year-old writer, as well as a Tutor, Sales Assistant, Volunteer and an English Literature and Creative Writing student, currently completing her third year at Lancaster University. She largely writes about mental health, identity, loss, grief, social issues, romantic love, friendship, family, and politics and has had over 40 poems, 24 articles, 14 blog posts, 5 pieces of short fiction and 16 social media posts for Mental Health Notebook published. She is currently working on her debut novel, a historical, sapphic book set in 1950s Liverpool, which she hopes to publish in the next year or so. She aspires to be an educator, foster carer and high-profile writer one day.