Have you ever just sat there.
Just sat there.
And let your mind pour out?
Just empty out completely?
I am sitting in a darkened room.
It’s dark outside.
There’s a soft wax lamp glowing.
I’m curled up with my dogs.
For no reason I can think of.
My mind starts to wander.
This happens often.
This time I begin to write it down.
My mind wanders to places familiar.
My mind wanders to places unknown.
Nostalgia takes hold.
I’m back in Crawley.
In the body of my nine year old self.
I’m on a playground.
Talking to a girl.
I can’t remember her name.
Or her features.
I remember she smells like fresh rain.
My mind wanders.
I’m sitting on the floor.
I think I’m seven.
I’m crying to myself.
I can’t remember why.
But I’m all out of tears.
My body is shivering with sobs.
Body jerking noiseless sobs.
I reach out my hand to me.
Before I get a chance to touch.
My mind wanders.
I’m in the body of my fourteen year old self.
I’m writing a letter.
It is haphazard.
There’s no structure to it.
I’m writing it to whoever will read it.
But I know that I’m the only one who will.
The letter says I’m running away.
The ink is splodged in spots.
With isolated teardrops.
My mind wanders.
I’m in a darkened room.
It’s nighttime.
There is a wax lamp glowing.
I’m curled up with my dogs.
And I know I’m in a good place.
All my wandering.
Has led me home.
I am Timi
– Seán O’Casey Bridge, Dublin, March 2015 –