This isn’t what I meant
When I said I wanted to go home.
This isn’t what I meant
When I said there was too much talking,
Too much grouping,
And I wanted to withdraw
Just for a little while.
Please,
Just a little while, I promise
An then I’ll come right back.
This isn’t what I meant
When I said I wanted my studies
To just be over.
This isn’t what I meant
When I fell asleep praying
For the Earth to heal.
I didn’t mean,
Force all my things into boxes
Almost two months early
And drive away from the city I lived in,
Never again to call it home.
I didn’t mean,
Leave my friends behind
Without even so much as a goodbye
Or a thank you
For the four years of growth
That they had given me.
I didn’t mean,
Take away the music,
My blue and purple,
90 Wellesley, Room 127.
I didn’t mean
Tear families apart,
One on one continent
And the other on another.
I didn’t mean
Cancel my convocation –
Years of hard work
With nothing to show for it.
I didn’t mean,
Even though dolphins are swimming
And the air and waters are clearing,
To keep everyone inside
Or else people would die.
I didn’t mean everyone should fear for their grandparents everyone couldn’t see their sisters and their cousins everyone couldn’t kiss their other halves everyone must worry about their family trapped abroad for everyone to either be too afraid or not afraid at all I didn’t mean
I didn’t mean to do
So many things
For the last time
Without knowing
It was the last time.
First published in The Soap Box Press’ blog, September 2020.
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