now she's gone

I remember the day clearly, the day when the first person in the new group of co-habitees left halls of residence to return home for the summer. it was the dividing line between a wonderful year of self-discovery (and, being first year, limited amounts of study), and moving back home to all those things that were left behind, not to mention the unknown quantity of moving into houses with friends. it was all a bit too much for me and i decided not to go home and slob about on the dole - but that's a different story, so here's how i felt when she left...

Your Leaving

Surveying the scenes set so cruelly
In a brave new world - it doesn't fool me
That it has all come tumbling down.

There's such an air, that I can sense it.
You're leaving now - you never meant it -
But from now you'll not be around.

The heaving walls they come closer still
And threaten me; remind me of my hell,
A place I'd sooner forget.

They remind me of an empty life,
An embittered experience of my own life,
Of which my ways were set.

This is the way I wish to avoid
So passionately, never to be devoid
Of all feelings such as now.

So why has our new world fallen apart
And plunged me back into the dark?
I need to know why. And how.


July 1990