Hedgehog

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I once moved country
With a sleeping bag
A dictionary
Two dresses
A blue t-shirt
One pair of jeans
And a change of underwear
To live in a nine foot
Square box with no
Toilet or fridge
I cooked ravioli
In the tin over
A five euro
Electric kettle
And washed both
Food and clothing
In the bidet
Entertaining friends
One at a time
As I acquired
A single mug
With no handle
Singing songs
With strangers
Who were also
Far from home
So do not dare
To presume
That I will permit
Myself to acknowledge
The inconvenience
Of personal growth
There are other things
Upon this Earth
That chafe

4 thoughts on “Hedgehog”

  3. I love this.

    Sometimes I look around my apartment, and all the things I’ve accumulated. I grew up in a really turbulent way, with next to nothing, lugging clothes from place to place in a garbage bag.

    Therefore I have grown overly attached to things. Look at how nice the cherry wood coffee table is. Look how shiny the flat screen TV. Look how colourful the bookcases are, filled with books and games and pictures.

    Feel how comfy the couch, the way you sink into it like a hug from an old friend. Feel how soft the throw, wrap it around your shoulders to catch the heat from your body.

    It took so long to accumulate all the trappings of comfort. Collecting piece by piece, waiting for sales. The shiny appliances, stainless steel pots, a sifter to bake soft cupcakes with.

    Sometimes, a lot of times, I think of selling it all to run away on an adventure, to start all over again somewhere else.

    There’s so little we truly need.

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