PERSON Poem: It was already past midnight when she came back home, by Jana Tvorogova

It was already past midnight when she came back home
and put her boots in the fridge
right next to a newspaper from months ago
Twelve months ago. From January.

She had spent the day hiding in cinemas

After washing her socks, she went to sleep

Oh, how she loved sleeping alone in her bed

It meant nobody sweaty beside her

nobody whispering some rich kid’s nonsense

She liked to be with somebody like her. And there was this one city that felt like her. And it wasn’t the city she lived in, it wasn’t the city she came from, and it wasn’t the city her parents came from. She had only seen it once, for about three days.

She often wrote silly little texts that grew into heavy words. And after finishing a text, she always felt like disappearing.