Dreading Time

By Jun Dayao

Posted on May 09 2014

The old kitchen clock hangs on the wall
Seeing us waiting, yearning, wishing for it all

The clock strikes five and our hearts start to race
Might be time to put on a happy face

The clock strikes six and we plug in the refrigerator
Hoping the next sounds will be a motivator

The clock strikes eight and we hear our stomachs growling
While listening to the dogs outside howling

The clock strikes ten and tears roll down my face
All the shame and sadness is such a disgrace

The clock strikes midnight and rouses us from our sleep
The younger boy says, “It’s okay, here’s something to eat.”

The clock continues to tick as he tries to feed us
The uneaten school lunch, now all mushed to pieces

The clock strikes two and we go back to bed
The clock has stopped moving, it’s probably dead.

—From a family member of an addict

Jun Dayao Dayao

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