Talking To My Inner Child
There is a little girl who sits alone in the alleyway of a crowded city. It stinks of gasoline.
Regal
Rain dances along the gravel outside the plastered window, dulling the blade of sunlight that cuts through the blinds and rests upon the body of my lover.
Strength
For twenty-seven years of my life, I scraped by in survival mode, carrying a broadsword and deflecting what I could, tending to the wounds of what I could not. I sought security in friends who still made space for me, allowed myself brief moments of rest, expressed my hurts and challenges and received the encouragement needed to limp back out into the world. These moments lingered for the length of an exhale, and came once every full moon.
Safety Locks
This beast of anger and defensive observation ignores you, it rests when you arrive, sits outside the door and lets you pass without so much as a glance. It has deemed you unthreatening. It has deemed you safe.
