I Didn't Know What Else to Do

That one autumn in Copenhagen, the leaves fell like nothing I'm familiar with.
It frightened me somewhat and I preserved silence when you shouted at me.

Coming home drunk to wake me up at two in the morning.
Ringing home drunk to wake me up at three.
What was I to do?

That one autumn in Copenhagen I felt up to my neck in leaves.
I felt I was drowning in them.
They were everywhere and not even there to be played amongst.
Every kick with a foot would unearth an empty packet of chips, yet another beaten, battered Coke bottle.

You did not beat me or batter me but you emptied me like a packet of chips.
What was I to do?
page 30 'I need space!' you yelled.
'I know you do!' I said, being as bitterly understanding as I could.
'Jeez!' you screamed. 'Will you just stop accusing me all the time?'
I offered to sleep on the ground, amongst the leaves, but we were drinking too much, smoking too much, leaving too much behind.
What was I to do?

The house was filled with smoke. Even my dreams were murky and fog-ridden.
The smoke hung in the air, in my clothes, in the leaves, in my dreams and in your voice. It would not dissipate.
I opened the window to let it out, but more smoke rolled in off the horizon, bringing with it leaves and empty chip packets, beaten and battered Coke bottles.

I offered to sleep on the ground, amongst the leaves, but you swore and emptied me of myself like I was cheap junk food.

We threw over food, work and reasonability for leaves, smoke and arguments. You needed a space which I could not give you. We were leaving all the time.

That one autumn in Copenhagen, when I lay close to your smoky sides for fear of the leaves …
that one autumn in Copenhagen, when you slept for two weeks without moving or making a sound …
that one autumn in Copenhagen, when I gave you my language and would gladly have taken yours …
that one autumn in Copenhagen, when you believed in science and I did not and you believed in a soul mate which I was not…
What was I to do?

That one autumn in Copenhagen was the one autumn where I left you for a leafless winter who loved me more than you. I finally left you and you did not even say goodbye.