In bed at 1:30am alone.
Up in six hours for work.
Facing the world of endless civility and smiles.

I don't want to go.

I don't want to go to sleep.
I don't want to dream of distant days and be lulled into a false sense of serenity.

I like my sorrow. I need it.
I'm waving goodbye to 11 years and it hurts.
But I'm happy.

Boxes fill my room.
Belongings and accumulations filled with dust and spiders.

Bin liners full of images.
Lives lived, smiles smiled, pasts parted.
Valentines filled with hopeful words.
Love

The lump in my throat signifies a new beginning '
A letting go.

11 years in one room
one day'¦
and its gone.


Charlotte Scadeng © October 2004

Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...