• Minadi Gunawardena

A Word

A word I cannot escape.

It crosses my mind with its bags

I watch from the window

As it climbs the stairs.

What are you doing?

I ask.

Moving in.

There’s no room

I say.

Make room.

Please leave, I’m doing well

I don’t want you here.

Face me then.

I won’t leave until you do.

How? I ask.

I don’t know what to do.

It empties the drawers now.

Unpacking, growing.

Taking up space.

It pours itself a drink,

Sits on the sofa

As if this is home.

Face me.

I can’t, I told you.

The word stares.


You can, you just don’t want to.