Under the Weather

Chantelle Van Vuuren

It is mid-June and
you haven’t seen daylight for quite some time, 
haven’t left your bed or felt a faucet’s steady drip on your back, can’t 
recall the last time you smiled where it wasn’t on cue
wasn’t it April? was that 
the last time the sky was blue before the thunderclap that sent you home 
to lay on the sidewalk beneath the dirty film cloud cover subduing the glow of the moon 
did you really think that things would be fine now? 
that just sticking things out would get you through when 
every song on the radio makes you cry and 
you just don’t feel anything sometimes 
except for when 
you’re sobbing in a dentist’s office because 
you won’t go see a therapist 
and, no, your friends don’t think it’s normal that
you sit with an unshakeable sadness or that 
you will duck for a camera, but run to a road every time 
you pick up paper cuts from light-hearted jokes and 
your lips are swelling violet as you stand in the cold 
on asphalt flooded with headlights and rain that soaks through your clothes 
but if you just lay down and kept your eyes closed maybe 
you could sleep off the sickness 
until your fingers thaw and your cheeks turn pink 
and none of this matters 
when you wake up in spring.

Poem by Chantelle Van Vuuren. Chantelle Van Vuuren (she/her) grew up in Tāmaki Makaurau and daydreams about being a full-time writer in her law lectures.
She likes to write poems and record eighteen-minute-long voice memos instead of sharing her feelings with her friends. @vvchantelle on Instagram.

Photograph by Abbey Falconer. Abbey Falconer is a visual artist raised in Tāmaki Makaurau. She completed her BVA in 2023 and enjoys exploring emotions and ideas through photography and sculpture. @abbeyfalconer_art on Instagram.