when i was young
and at the playground
i liked my feet to be on the ground
didn't really spend much time on the swings
&
when i did go on the swings
i made sure to swing only slightly
never pumped my legs as hard as i could
had no interest in flying

and now:
i'm grown,
and i still prefer my feet on the ground
still don't care for the swings,
or the unpredictability of your swinging moods

(i never know what will set you off)
(i say one thing one day and you laugh, and the next day you yell)
(this is a familiar pattern)
(one that i had hoped to escape)
(why)
(sometimes it feels like a nightmare i can't escape)
(am i not worthy of kindness?)
(am i not worthy of love that is secure?)

sometimes
i catch myself wishing for the sandbox
or just a nice bench
anything that doesn't swing

i did it,
of course.
let myself fall into
the false sense of security

thought that i had done enough
to prevent a ruining.

thought that a day
about me
could simply be good.

but,
apparently,
you had other ideas

and yes,
i can take it.
can deal with a lack of kindness,
can smile through most of the hurt,
but not always.
not today

not when the person
who claimed to love me
who wanted to protect me
set out to hurt

i miss the negative space of your hips

my fists tight,
not clenched,
callused fingertips to callused palms

always braced for battle,
for disaster

quick,
better shore up the defenses.
there's something on the horizon,
can't you see?
i think it's a ship
no,
it's a storm
either way,
best be prepared
make sure everything is shielded
don't let any vulnerability show

i see you
(the real you)
usually early in the morning
(before my brain fully turns on)
(before i can really appreciate it)

snuggly and sweet,
satisfied and smiling
no hint of the bravado that'll set in

i want to pause this moment
(forever)
want you to keep this happiness
bottle it up,
sip from it when you are feeling low

alas

that's impossible

the tick of the clock has never been louder
all i want is more time
(with who you are now)

grab me,
pull me in closer,
remind me of where my home really is
(nestled into your chest)
(safe in your arms)
(smiling against your skin)

and
please
(one day)
let me do this for you
let me be the call home
to remind you of who you are
when you're happy
and smiling
and snuggly

at first:
a bit of static

i can hear you,
but only slightly

hello?
hello?
are you there?
can you hear me?

soon:
nothing

-----

dial tone
and hopelessness.

how am i supposed to reach you
when the connection is so bad?

i'm on a cellphone.
you're on a tin can with a string.

&
i'd do anything to get to you:
battle monsters,
dragons,
taxmen,
the 2 train.

but not if you don't want me to.

what do i do?
do i write a letter?
tie it to a carrier pigeon
hope that you receive it?

i have a feeling
that
even if i hand-delivered
my message to you
it would get lost along the way