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The All-True Confessions of an Evicted Homeless Girl
Evicted. . .
Homeless. . .
I never once thought that these words,
would be said to describe me.
No-- Not once... In my entire life.
Seventeen years I lived believing
that I would always have a place--
To live.
To breathe.
To belong.
To sleep.
Never once did I lay awake thinking that
the next morning,
or the next week...
I wouldn't be in my bed.
In my room.
In my house.
Wouldn't be able to use my bathroom.
Or take a shower in my tub.
Hang my clothes in my closet.
Sit at the kitchen table
and eat food that came from my refrigerator.
No...
Like every other teenager in the world.
I was selfish.
I was ignorant.
I took everything that I had for granted.
From my own room, to the food in my kitchen.
I took all of that for granted.
I believed that I would always have it.
That there would never come a time when I would have...
Nothing.
But here I am.
Yes, I am typing this poem on my laptop.
But I am sitting on my fold up cot.
In the hotel room that I share with my mother and my cat.
Where I have my own bed, not my own room.
And I have a small bathroom, that has a sink on the outside.
Where the microwave is out of date.
And my food is stored in a mini-frig.
Where I have no desk or dresser.
Where I have a big plastic blue bin to store my books.
Where the white walls close in on me
and the shadow watch me as I cry myself to sleep.
I was evicted from my house.
Because the apartment was foreclosed.
That happen in September.
Half of all my stuff was taken to another storage place
that will inevitably auction off all of mine and my mother's stuff.
It's April now and we do not have our stuff.
And we do not have anywher else to live but this hotel room.
I never thought that this would be my life.
That this is where I would spend my 18th year of being alive.
That this was the enviroment that I would try to stop cutting in.
That this...
This was to be my home.
This?
This room?
This was to be my home.
Yes I know I'm healthy.
Yes I know I'm alive.
Yes I know I have my mother with me.
Yes I know I have an amazing boyfriend.
But...
Each and every one of you...
You all have a house.
You all have a room.
You all have a refrigerator.
And when you get done reading this.
You're going to go relax in your living room, watch some TV.
You might go to bed, in your own room.
You might go have a snack inside of a kitchen--
With a stove and refrigerator, and everything.
You might not do anything.
You might do all of those things,
or maybe something totally different.
But when I get done writing this.
I'm going to put my laptop down on the floor.
And then I'm just going to lay on my bed,
and cry to my boyfriend over the phone about how unfair it is.
How I never asked for this...
How I was just a seventeen year old girl
and I never deserved to have her house and stuff taken away from her.
How I never wanted any of this.
How I just wanted to live a normal life.
Thes are where the words:
"Evicted" & "Homeless" come into play.
This is where I take a deep breath
and just lower my head in shame.
Because this is the way I live my life now.
Putting aside everything good does not change
the fact that the most normal part
about being a human being was taken away from me.
And NO ONE ever thought about me in the process.
They went through the motions.
To evict my mom from that apartment.
To take the furniture from that apartment.
But they never once asked me...
They never once told me what I did wrong.
I was seventeen years old, not seven.
I'm eighteen years old now, not eight.
I know what's going on.
And it-- it's just not fair.
That I have to be homeless.
That I had to be evicted.
That I have to live like this.
And still nobody tells me...
What I did to deserve this?
Homeless. . .
I never once thought that these words,
would be said to describe me.
No-- Not once... In my entire life.
Seventeen years I lived believing
that I would always have a place--
To live.
To breathe.
To belong.
To sleep.
Never once did I lay awake thinking that
the next morning,
or the next week...
I wouldn't be in my bed.
In my room.
In my house.
Wouldn't be able to use my bathroom.
Or take a shower in my tub.
Hang my clothes in my closet.
Sit at the kitchen table
and eat food that came from my refrigerator.
No...
Like every other teenager in the world.
I was selfish.
I was ignorant.
I took everything that I had for granted.
From my own room, to the food in my kitchen.
I took all of that for granted.
I believed that I would always have it.
That there would never come a time when I would have...
Nothing.
But here I am.
Yes, I am typing this poem on my laptop.
But I am sitting on my fold up cot.
In the hotel room that I share with my mother and my cat.
Where I have my own bed, not my own room.
And I have a small bathroom, that has a sink on the outside.
Where the microwave is out of date.
And my food is stored in a mini-frig.
Where I have no desk or dresser.
Where I have a big plastic blue bin to store my books.
Where the white walls close in on me
and the shadow watch me as I cry myself to sleep.
I was evicted from my house.
Because the apartment was foreclosed.
That happen in September.
Half of all my stuff was taken to another storage place
that will inevitably auction off all of mine and my mother's stuff.
It's April now and we do not have our stuff.
And we do not have anywher else to live but this hotel room.
I never thought that this would be my life.
That this is where I would spend my 18th year of being alive.
That this was the enviroment that I would try to stop cutting in.
That this...
This was to be my home.
This?
This room?
This was to be my home.
Yes I know I'm healthy.
Yes I know I'm alive.
Yes I know I have my mother with me.
Yes I know I have an amazing boyfriend.
But...
Each and every one of you...
You all have a house.
You all have a room.
You all have a refrigerator.
And when you get done reading this.
You're going to go relax in your living room, watch some TV.
You might go to bed, in your own room.
You might go have a snack inside of a kitchen--
With a stove and refrigerator, and everything.
You might not do anything.
You might do all of those things,
or maybe something totally different.
But when I get done writing this.
I'm going to put my laptop down on the floor.
And then I'm just going to lay on my bed,
and cry to my boyfriend over the phone about how unfair it is.
How I never asked for this...
How I was just a seventeen year old girl
and I never deserved to have her house and stuff taken away from her.
How I never wanted any of this.
How I just wanted to live a normal life.
Thes are where the words:
"Evicted" & "Homeless" come into play.
This is where I take a deep breath
and just lower my head in shame.
Because this is the way I live my life now.
Putting aside everything good does not change
the fact that the most normal part
about being a human being was taken away from me.
And NO ONE ever thought about me in the process.
They went through the motions.
To evict my mom from that apartment.
To take the furniture from that apartment.
But they never once asked me...
They never once told me what I did wrong.
I was seventeen years old, not seven.
I'm eighteen years old now, not eight.
I know what's going on.
And it-- it's just not fair.
That I have to be homeless.
That I had to be evicted.
That I have to live like this.
And still nobody tells me...
What I did to deserve this?
Published 25th Apr 2012
| Edited 19th Nov 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.
25th Apr 2012 1:52am
27th Apr 2012 2:02am
I am so, so sorry that this has/is happening to you. You have written so perfectly and I must admit, you have made one cynical old man cry - probably the truest form of critique you can ask for. A fantastic read but, oh, so sad.
If I can help in any which way or form, please message me.
I send you love, hugs and strength (sadly, all electronic) Take care precious one.
D x
If I can help in any which way or form, please message me.
I send you love, hugs and strength (sadly, all electronic) Take care precious one.
D x
