The Street Dweller

Like the gnawing of the starving mosquito on my sun parched chapped skin The pain in my head goes on and on The memories, oh the memories My childhood, my layoff, the sudden passing of Trudy the only thing that loved me and I sort of devotedly loved back...if I could understand what love was With my experience of the mangy neighbour's mutt who begged for scraps next to the dilapidated children's home Which was my penitentiary for 15 years before it spat me out and left me dry like Neighbour Chinee's clean laundry on a hot school vacation day Maybe I am not built for that ‘love' capacity because everyone I meet is just like this Trini weather Dry, hazy and never around when you need a lil filling up when under the weather Oh the memories…my desertion...my desolation like a second skin I hatefully wear Nobody knows how it is to be invisible in a sea of people Imagine me in Port of Spain, the grandest city in Trinidad but nobody knows who I am I was once one of those dapper and dandy office workers churning out projects even before deadlines Awards and accolades heaped upon me and brightly decorating my spaces Government ministers lining up to shake my hand...now look where I am!! Look where that put me...a big NOBODY! This invisibility cloaks and haunts me daily A cardboard box, carton of cigarettes, stale bread wrapped in a torn paper towel and a creased photo of my Trudy are my fixed assets My mental capacity as an accountant still thrives on despite the despondency COVID...you have treated me so badly…taken from me over and over...a stumble, a fall, a wreck and then DEATH Oh the pain...those painful memories of losing my Trudy to your wrathful vengeance COVID The downward spiral as the hurt and pain bled over and over…a wound that could never heal…only to be satisfied with some numbing cocaine That's my fix...oh it does wonders! The quiet psychedelic escapade from this harsh reality and my everlasting companion in this wretched weather I have to laugh at life yes...the karmic circle of smirking at the vagrant sleeping on that hard chipped concrete Oh God my overbearing countenance, my luck, my life, my joy all wiped out in a swoop Look at me now...fighting for turf in that same place…that same business stoop Rain or sunshine it's all the same...just me, my cigarette and a lil cocaine watching the days go out and in again and again How much can one endure when your best friend and confidante just shakes his head in dread when your eyes meet With a small change thrown by my feet making it like it's a treat You know you could have stopped and talked...yet all you do is tip your chin up and walk Past me...past my new deodorant that has that nose of yours tingling...eau de Street...the new perfume of my life Bath time a luxury I can no longer afford until this wretched rain falls These darn mosquitoes keep buzzing in my ear the only companions to venture near My bloodshot eyes tell voluminous tales If one could ever look past this dreary shadow that is me A brother in arms, best friend, husband and lover are all labels I would contentedly wear if I could have a life do-over Never say never But now in this harsh reality all I can be is a wretched, despondent, invisible street-dweller

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Jane Doe

Aspiring writer, budding linguist.

Cape Town, South Africa