This is one of the first poems I wrote and revised significantly, in a Creative Writing class in Spring. It’s fairly different – and longer – than my last post, with a completely different tone and structure.
My house has been broken into.
I almost don’t believe it, even though I am standing
Dazed in the rubble of my bedroom.
A smell is hanging in the air,
Unfamiliar and unwanted
Like a stranger in your bed.
It feels as if I have been invaded.
What is left of my belongings lie scattered,
Blown across my room
Like limbs on a battlefield.
Old t-shirts, scraps of paper and empty drawers
The sole survivors.
Before this my room was a place of calm.
Nestled on the top floor of my student house,
A bean bag in the corner, and on the walls
Photos to cover the metallic grey paint.
My desk under the window, overlooking
The park across the street. At night I burned
Incense to mask the damp left to fester by the landlord
It was never much, but it was mine.
The bean bag is split, balls littering the floor
My photos of family, friends, and precious memories
Are torn, ripped, discarded. One is missing.
Perhaps they wanted a souvenir.
My desk is cleared, notes swiped carelessly to the ground
And my laptop is gone. My place of work, where I would sweat
Out essays into the early hours, always cluttered
Is now the cleanest part of the bedroom.
I drift downstairs, noting the stench of shit
One of them left to float in the toilet.
They didn’t flush. A bad idea,
We ran out of toilet paper last Saturday.
Television, laptop, Xbox, even microwave and kettle
All are missing. I call the police,
Tell them my home has been taken and the robbers
Are still out there robbing.
We cannot come out, they say
But we will try our best, they lie.
I am overcome by a wave of anger, my hands sticky
Sweaty from shock and now clenching
Fists. I think about the photo they took
Wondering if they used it as toilet paper,
As my still face smiles in blind ignorance.
A part of me hopes they feel guilt, and look at the photo
Of me smiling, and have remorse.
Another part of me hopes
Sincerely and devoutly
That since justice failed
They choke on their sins
And that as they gasp
My smiling face floats before them
In blissful retribution.
I breathe deep, and take a seat.