Archive for February, 2013

My Own Place

February 28, 2013

Books, lots of books. Room for all of them. My books would be all in alphabetical order, just like in the library.

I’d be able to check them out to myself and there wouldn’t be a return date. I’d own them. They’d be mine alone. I would have space for my clothes, for the pictures and belongings of the people I’ve loved in my life. No more threats—none of any kind. Nobody would tell me you have to leave by such and such a date—or else! I wouldn’t be afraid—not anymore. And no moreHousing Court. No more injustices or unsafe living conditions. I’d be myself. I would be able to afford to be myself with my own place to protect me. 

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Cockroaches

February 27, 2013

I feel them. I get up in the morning and one of them is nibbling on my arm. I shake it off. You annoy me, I tell it. I get up and go to the kitchen. How many of them am I counting? The sink has at least 10 or12. I put water in the coffee maker. I have to pour the water down the drain. A cockroach is in the coffee maker. The stove top. I see a few walking around the burners. The fridge—the fridge has to be safe. I open the door to take out eggs. I scream. It’s a good thing they can’t get inside the eggs, I say out loud. These cockroaches are like God. They’re everywhere.

Threats

February 23, 2013

What will you do to me? What can you do to me? When you talk to me (or talk at me) and you say you are going to do this and that, I swallow hard. No, I am not afraid. I look at you in the eye and I don’t shake. Your words mean nothing to me. They’re just stupid sounds coming out of your mouth. You are seeing what can scare me, what can have me run out the door. You leave to go meet whoever it is you go meet and I stay behind with the cockroaches. It’s has been me and the cockroaches for a long time. At night, when I try to rest, I get the same nightmare. I am out there or in here and they’re coming to get me.

The Plate

February 17, 2013

Slightly chipped. Its color was yellow, a soft and delicate shade of yellow. The manufacturer was English and she had bought it in the 40s, not long after her marriage. It was small and meant to be used as a salad plate, but when I went to live with my aunt, it was my dinner plate. Harrods department store had a Buenos Aires branch. The plate came with matching coffee cups and saucers. For many years it had been in storage; then my aunt got it out of her special china drawer.

Somewhere

February 15, 2013

Somewhere. Anywhere. Just anywhere. I want to belong. I want to be a part of something. I want people to smile when I walk down the street. I need to be liked for me, for what’s inside me and not for what they think I have or will have. It doesn’t matter. Not now. I just want to fit in.

Room

February 11, 2013

It was small. There was a bed, a chair and a small radio. Just enough. I had had it with the street. That room was a refuge. I’d open the door. I had it. No one was going to take it away from me.

Name

February 11, 2013

The same name over and over again. I wrote it in my notebook, the notebook with all my thoughts and feelings. I couldn’t tell anyone. No one must know who he was or what he meant to me. The notebook was hidden. I’d put it away in one of my suitcases. His name kept me going. I had something—someone—to look forward to.

See

February 5, 2013

I can see it now—an old fashioned chest of drawers. The wood was solid and shiny, even on grey winter days. The long rectangular mirror was attached to the back of the chest of drawers. A long and wide piece of transparent glass covered its top. A thick white vase had been placed in the center. It had thin glass legs. There were no flowers in the vase.

Home

February 2, 2013

Fear. I feared him. I had no idea when he’d be coming back. I lived there, but I was homeless. I didn’t want to see him—the feeling grew worse as time went on. I would shake; my body would get all tense when he showed up. I never knew what he would do or when he would do it. I wanted to trust him. I tried hard to trust him. But I didn’t dare. If I trusted him, I’d be more in his hands than I already was. I’d be 100% in his power, totally helpless.