Yvonne/Bevendean

You were my sanctuary

in the storm of my youth;

my mum’s sanctuary

in the storm of her marriage.

You would send me off to school

with luncheon meat sandwiches

and a small box of teeny smarties.

I would save up all the blue ones

and give them to my friend

who had ADHD,

curious to see if they’d send him off.

I loved watching Mortal Kombat

on Fox Kids, and Goosebumps.

I would lie on your floor

and pencil endlessly

sketches of Jax,

my favourite character,

with his black skin, thick cool

black sunglasses, and metal arms.

Your husband would show me

catwalk women on Men and Motors

and make me toast triangles

with lots of butter

and strawberry jam,

and say, ‘If you don’t eat it

you’ll wear it!’ or

‘I’ll shut your fingers in the door...’

It was a place to escape the

constant misery of home,
the constant sowing of bad seeds.

Like a hotel in the desert -

Hotel California, perhaps?
Maybe we felt we could never leave.

Is that why now, 

at 31, I’m back here again?

Escaping the storm that I have made?

Only, Ian is long since gone.

You are still a lion,

only slower and not so much

in your prime.

The only difference is

I can see clearly now

what was oblivious to me

as a child - what was only

a fuggy swirl

of intoxicated feelings.

So I guess it’s time

to get on healing.