I'm an efficient mover
My first time was at seven
My mother woke me up
Before the sun could rise
Hush, "csitt", quick
The moving van arrived.
The furniture, a few,
Landed in the back,
My father crying softly,
Kissed goodbye to the cats.
My friends, neighbours,
And all we knew
Slept, as though nothing happened.
The next time I was eight,
Not much wiser than before,
My mother said she'd made a mistake,
She couldn't care for us no more.
This time there was no van,
Belongings were sold
There was only my mother
My cat
And I.
My brother left behind.
And also, the cat.
I lost so much more than it seemed
That I didn't know back then.
The third time I was twelve,
With my father stuck at work
We snuck out during the day.
I didn't change schools,
It was the same town,
A street away.
Hidden, under a tree
Hoping to never hear the fight.
My brother returned,
A girl followed,
That was our new family.
Although crowded in the same room,
For a moment,
I swear,
We were happy.
The fourth time I was fourteen,
Back into the nest we flew
Teachers said
Education is the future.
So to help with school,
We listened to the pressure
Of child services,
"A family that is together is a bigger help
Than anything else."
Except, what are you, ******* blind.
The fifth time I was fifteen,
I was put in an institution
Against my will.
It was for the best.
"Stop being selfish,
We need to save money."
What a burden, a child,
Its currency expenses.
At this one time I returned
For the weekend
My mother was gone,
She had left.
My sixth time was at eighteen,
Jumped into the arms of a boy
Who gave me an out.
A learning curve, a lesson,
One of the great mistakes of life.
My seventh time at nineteen.
Back into the house,
Helping my father get over
His drunken accidents
Tending to his scars
Trying to earn the great education
Everybody was preaching about.
It wasn't until later
My mental health came crashing.
It was time to skip
Earn some cash
See what I could make of myself.
That was my eight, twenty
Such a grown-up number,
Lived with boys,
Then older boys,
And whilst they cared for me,
I cared less for myself.
The era of failing had begun.
It took me less than six
Trying to scrape a life together
With someone I called friend
Only realising I wasn't strong enough,
So I ran.
My ninth, back into the house
My mother was back as well
Surprised her when I showed up
With a suitcase and backpack.
But in they took me
Left me to do my thing,
Let me wallow in self pity.
Ignored the demons that slept
In my bed.
They feasted on my dreams
And got stronger by the day
I carried them with me
Wherever I went.
My tenth, at twenty-two
The things I did for enough to escape
This great country of mine,
The ****** abuse, the hurtful words,
Boys will be boys,
You're too sensitive, said work.
Thank god for Tumblr.
For online friends, for all those chats
Headcanons and theories
That gave me confidence
To arrive in a country
That didn't speak my language
Despite me saying, 'sorry, what'
For the hundredth time
My love happened right on the spot
For theirs seemed unconditional.
My eleventh happened at twenty-three,
Different people formed a bond,
Late night talks, lectures, fun,
I was meant for this house.
Incredible
How much happens in a few years
For all that is worth,
I failed and grew at the same time.
My twelfth, at twenty-seven,
Bittersweet and new,
With a boy I loved and thought,
Could help me endure.
A short-lived memory
In the distance, that is.
A quick escape,
A step
Towards adult life.
My thirteenth, still at twenty-seven,
What I'm living now,
Exploring a new area,
With its medieval town.
The next season of
Something Beautiful
With the added spice of a cat.
I'm hoping not to leave.
I'm hoping not to move.
Not to make a move.
If I do, I might stir the darkness.
I shall let it sleep for now.
February, 2021
