Calendars

Leaves fall from trees like pages torn from calendars.
Day after day after day goes by, but nothing changes.
The world does, but I don’t.
I’m still here, in my room, with nowhere else to go.
The air around me is still and thick with words unspoken and dreams unfulfilled.
I lock the door and draw the curtains.
I flee inside myself and write.
It’s all I can do to stop myself from losing it.
To block out the world I want to but can’t be a part of.
Filled with people who just don’t understand.