How I Remember You.

Poet's note:

The background to this poem is found in this story:

I came back

to a place I was born but didn’t belong to,

passport lost in waiting rooms

two degrees held like a secret

but no work, no home

just hunger and cold nights

chasing ghosts...

The Home Office said "overstayer"

I held my birth certificate

like a talisman no one wanted to see...

I fell into arms

wrong and bruising

needed love where only silence lived

vulnerable, chasing shadows

Santeria, smoke, performing music to empty rooms

Strangers disguised as fake friends...

Georgie packed my things

said he knew a family

July 31st, 2018

your kindness a fragile thread

washing clothes, ironing fears

maybe I could stay

maybe the door would close

“We’ll see how it goes”

a sentence heavier than locks...

I wanted you to see

no address, no future

I returned to pain

because you couldn’t say yes or no

your home wasn’t mine

in your silences

I was invisible...

We talked

deep words that barely touched

March, Mothering Sunday 2019

buzzed from George’s house

I tried to make you laugh

you said we weren’t even friends

a slap echoing in my head.

I held on to ghosts

messages unanswered

prayers whispered to empty rooms

invited you to movies

got nothing back

the night I boarded a bus to nowhere

my diary gone

hope slipping through fingers....

Something fought inside me

a part whispered you wanted me

another screamed you didn’t

maybe just me

refusing to believe....

Cancer came slow

after my father left

a body betraying me

while I fought for a place to stand...

The Home Office shipped me away—

strangers in a car

heart too heavy to answer your call

hostels, gypsy roads, loneliness

letters to no one

prayers for a friend

already lost...

You came back in voice notes

long and winding

echoes of something lost

April 2023

cancer returned

I reached through darkness

you said you couldn’t be there.

you apologized.

I wept.

Love is a quiet flame

that flickers

but doesn’t burn bright enough

and still—

this is how

I remember you.