Poem 5.  A continuation of the Tenter Hooks series. Very often women flee their homes in a moment of crisis. They will leave with very few belongings and little to no money.  This poem is about my first contact with the social security office less than 24 hrs after fleeing in fear for my life. 
 

It’s a 20 minute walk to the office

The weather is foul

But there is no choice

If you want to eat you have to go now

 

Wrapped up as best my limited wardrobe 

Allows

I push the buggy out

Into a wind that howls

Akin to the the rage I feel inside

 

A sense of relief washes over

When I congratulate myself

For having left the the rain cover

On the buggy

 

Looking at her all snug and safe

Gives me a feeling of warmth

And pride

It’s a feeling that

I cannot hide

 

The office is busy

Someone is angry

But I think that it is more

They are scared

And that makes them upset

 

I take my ticket

Find a seat

Not easy in a room

That’s already complete

 

The air is thick

With desperation

Waiting it’s turn

A mother has stormed out

Leaving her children

“I can’t feed them, so perhaps you can!”

There’s a man

Clearly angry

His money is late

He has kids to feed

Don’t call him mate!

 

Two hours in

And my number is up

I steel myself for the questions

A straight faced woman

Greets me from behind her

Perspex shield

 

Name?

National insurance number?

Questions seem pretty inane

Aware of all the people behind me

I try to keep my voice low

 

“There are just a few things that we need to know.”

“No, I can’t go home”

“I don’t like to say, it’s a bit public.”

“Well, if you want our help

You’ll have to speak up!”

 

“We will let you know when you’ve been processed.”

“How long? Maybe two weeks.”

“But I have no money and I need to eat!”

“Emergency loan?”

“That sounds ok.  How do I go about that?”

 

More dignity is stripped from me

But I walk out with my head held high

While deep inside

I just want to die

 

I am relieved that it is still raining

At least those passing by

Won’t see me cry.   

 

I wish I could go home

I wish my home was safe

I miss having my own space

Baby is unsettled

I wish I could put her in her bed

I wish she had her bunny tunes

I yearn to see a friendly face

 

Twenty four hours

Your whole life can change

From a private life

To a public space

 

“Hi, did you have a good day?”

“Yeah, it was ok.”

“Good to hear it.  Don’t forget to make an appointment with housing!”

“Oh … no, I won’t forget.”

It’s the end of the first day

But it’s not over yet. 

C.K.23