You came back. Good. I turn the key at half past ten. That little laugh. That laugh again. A child stands waiting by the stair, In clothes I swore I used to wear. I back away. He takes my place. One step. Two steps. Face to face. I run. His feet pound down the hall. Small voices scratch inside the wall. Don’t go outside. We’re playing here. Just one more door. Just one more year. Little footsteps down the hall, We can hear you through the wall. Dragging sleeves and slipping shoes, We keep all the years you lose. One more room and one more door, You’re not big here any more. Run, run, don’t look round. Listen to how close we sound. STOP FOLLOWING ME! But you know the way. My jacket drags along the floor. My shoes fall off at one more door. The child behind me grows so tall, His shadow fills the bedroom wall. My voice turns thin. I call for Mum. He hums the song she used to hum. His footsteps stop. He knows the place. He bends down, smiling with my face. Loose sleeves. Small hands. Your watch falls off. He understands. Little footsteps down the hall, We can hear you through the wall. Dragging sleeves and slipping shoes, We keep all the years you lose. One more room and one more door, You’re not big here any more. Run, run, don’t look round. Listen to how close we sound. MY HANDS! MY FACE! GIVE ME BACK MY YEARS! He wears them now. THAT’S MY FACE! It fits. You had your turn. You had your years. I kept your room. I kept your fears. My hands are small. The lock is high. I hear him breathing On the other side. Still there? Little footsteps down the hall, We can hear you through the wall. Dragging sleeves and slipping shoes, We keep all the years you lose. One more room and one more door, You’re not big here— ANY MORE. All that running. All that sound. Now be quiet. You’ve been found. My turn to be you. Your turn to wait.
