Anna Wakey29

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I approached the familiar chair, 

And sat, breathing out the stress of the day. 

 

Looking around, familiar faces with almost-remembered names 

Flashing back and forth on the TV. 

 

In my hand is just water,

But it feels like a tell. 

 

I sit, all my possessions within reach. 

Everything that makes me what I thought was

 

Unique

Fearless

Strong

 

Is hidden behind my leg.

Embarrassment and shame engulfs me again. 

Another hotel lobby, because no bed welcomes me. 

 

A bag filled with donated miscellaneous mystery meat

Cans I bow down for, gratitude for something

 

For something someone found.

From Easter, or Christmas, 15-20-30 years past. 

 

No good for people,

To the homeless it\'s passed.

 

The chair is familiar.

It is the chair I sat in when I realised -

 

Pity is not low enough,

Disgust is not deep enough.

 

You know how you feel when you see them. 

Sat outside because no one welcomes us in.