Renter Woes

I live in a place where I get mail every day, none of it for me.

Instead it is for decades worth of past tenants who have not changed their address for their bills, brochures, birthday cards.

They still haunt this place, their hooks still in walls, a nail polish stain on the carpet, a funny stain shaped like France

Things that were probably steeply deducted from their bond so the landlord could “fix.”

I live with a revolving door of flatmates and their partners who overstay their welcome

All a variation of messy, loud, inconsiderate, or a winning combination of the three.

Hoarding shared plates, cups, and cutlery in their room until long after we’re eating cereal out of mugs.

Deciding to clean once every three months, at 7am on a Sunday.

When they first move in I think they’re nice,

Until they repeatedly leave their dental floss on the bathroom sink or forget to flush the toilet,

Until they wash their dog in the shower I’ve just cleaned and leave it covered in dirt and dog hair,

Until they always have friends or their partner over all weekend, taking over shared living spaces.

I deal with landlords who can find my number to message about inspections and rent

But seem to be unable to reply to deal with repairs or issues.

Who decide to raise rent every year like clockwork

Without so much as giving the flat a fresh lick of paint

I live in a place I can never really call home,

Tiptoeing around flatmates I can go days without seeing,

Coming home to strangers in my living room,

Wanting desperately to live alone but not being able to afford to.