Safety is a weird thing to want. Not money. Not sex. Not a big home. Not a fancy car.


In your arms, I was safe. I could relax the fighter and tell her to return to her corner. Your heartbeat slowed mine. It was measured and calm. It was my safety. The first in a very long time. Like a life raft in a huge ocean, ever determined to keep me lost.

Your skin, warm and soft, caressed mine in a way that told me that you loved me. I was safe. It didn’t matter what happened that day, week, month. I was safe. Protected from the world.

Your soft chuckle over something silly that I had said, told me that I was ok. The way that you loved me put everyone to shame. It was perfect until it wasn’t. It was safe. That safety is just a memory that tortures my heart. My life raft is gone and the ocean is determined to consume me. My tears just adding to the salty ocean water.

Safety and perfection don’t exist anymore. So scarce that I wonder if they were real or if I made it all up. A beautiful dream left for me to cling to as the ocean conquers my soul, spirit, and hope. Perfection.

~ by goddess4ever on April 12, 2018.

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