Coming Home

I left in such a hurry
My room is still a mess
When I come back – the dirty dishes on the counter
The pile of just-washed clothes
not yet cleared up – papers spread haphazardly on the dusty floor-

Something is buzzing. I thought it was my ears
but it might just be the electricity
of the printer I don’t want to disconnect
(Too much trouble – I might use it tomorrow.)
I hope I’ll be able to sleep.

Its cold in here. I forget
The way the wind rages outside between the flats
The strange big silence
The subdued light–
(The extra lamp buzzes too. I might be going mad.)

I’ll never change
I am small and alone even when there’s people and I’m pretending
to be grown – I’m small and alone under a starless city sky
just wanting to go home.

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