thirty ____ street

sometimes when i take the wrong street
(which was still the right street six years ago
and simply home before that)
sometimes then
when i pass your blocked-off door
and boarded windows
(that seem to sit lower than they used to
but you wouldn't even know that i'm getting taller)
i think maybe you did win

because maybe being alone with time to forget is a better prize
than having to hide scars and tell things to people who rarely say 'well done'

and maybe it's like when you're a child and you close your eyes and make believe that everything's gone
except that you're fifty-four and barricading a house (not a home) but i bet it's almost as good
all i know is i was the child that closed my eyes and always heard you say "i'm here"
and now you don't want to be

but maybe you did win
because maybe
just maybe
having no-one to tell you that you're wrong feels just as good as being right

i say maybe
i say maybe because you know
sometimes i don't walk down that street
and sometimes i wear t shirts
and sometimes the people say 'well done'

i'm not a child now
and people tell me when i'm wrong (or when i'm right)
and i think that feels good

so maybe you didn't win
or maybe i just didn't lose

and that's better
like walking down a street where everything is at the height you expect
or being with people long enough that they don't have to be shocked at how tall you've grown

and you know what
if i think about it now
maybe sitting alone in your too-big house and your too-small head
doesn't feel like a prize to you either

good

it's not meant to