Tag Archives: safe

Landline

How do you explain to someone that they’re your life line?

A physical cord, as if it were a landline.

I feel as if I don’t care about any other calls I may receive.

They can listen to a busy tone.

Sorry, not sorry, but I’m unavailable.

Codependency? I don’t believe so.

I talk to others all the time, mainly in person.

But his calls? Those intimate late night talks?

Those are the ones that fuel every bit of my broken soul.

It’s in the small details.

The intricate yellow spiral spanning a few feet long.

Nothing grand, nothing glamorous, but it’s sturdy, safe, and reliable.

Sturdy, safe, and reliable.

How sad that these were qualities in past relationships I had never seen, never heard of; simply never knew they existed.

This landline feels like the newest cellphone on the market to me.

It’s a discovery I wouldn’t sell for any amount in the world.

They can have their shiny toys,

ones they pay extra for, monthly,

just to repeatedly break and replace.

That’s their version of reliable.

A backup plan they continuously invest in.

I don’t pay extra.

I don’t think of the newest model, an “upgrade.”

I don’t purposefully destroy.

What I have…

What I have is timeless.

What I have isn’t as easy or convenient,

but damn, does it always work.

What I have is forever.

Each spiral pulls a little further,

expanding itself to reach whichever new rooms I may venture into.

What I have is perfection.

What I have is real.

The laying on your bed and

kicking your feet in the air,

with your fuzzy pajamas on,

venting about the mundane,

and gossiping about all things spicy and juicy.

It’s nostalgic, yet fresh.

It’s peace, yet chaotic.

It may require a little extra maintenance, but we willingly do the work.

We don’t pawn it off.

We don’t hang up the call.

This is what I hold the closest to my chest.

This phone hears every beat of my heart,

and I deliberately pause to pay attention…

to hear the percussion of love on the other end.

I’m in love.

Deep, burning, indescribable love.

Lucky me,

I get to hear that baritone voice on the other end for the rest of my life.

The Waiting Room

I had a dream the other day.

We were in a doctor’s office.

Perhaps it was a metaphor of a true check-up.

A storm was coming,

and the predictions were egregious.

We chatted about our preparations,

and held small talk about how we were doing.

You haven’t crossed my mind in years.

Unless I’m drudging up mistakes of the past, or the love I’ve lost,

I simply don’t give you access to my mind.

You’ve already done enough damage,

and my rental has been finishing repairs.

I love the reconstruction, honestly.

I’m finally being booked at a higher price,

the one I should’ve charged for you.

My love met me at the office and you shook his hand.

You watched us leave and I looked back.

I smiled, and could feel my hand grip his a little tighter.

The healing, the growth, the success, the unconditional love, and the value…

I have that. I did that.

Everything you once told me that I couldn’t be or couldn’t have…

here I am, and I have it all.

You’ve crept in the background,

and don’t feel surprised,

because I saw you.

This dream granted you full visibility.

For once, we shared true transparency.

It was invigorating.

It was powerful.

After all this time, I’ve still held a small amount of pain and anger.

Not necessarily because I’m thinking of you; don’t let your ego get inflated,

but rather the situations that involved you.

The trauma showed itself in the unexpected.

Cruel, bent, rusty nails that just wouldn’t budge.

I finally got to tell you how I worked hard to be where I’m at today.

Incredibly hard.

I deserve this life, this love, and this healing.

I deserve to walk away with this smile.

I earned it.

I hope you’re in a similar place, truly.

I think that was the point of the dream.

I’m finally strong enough to wish you well.

Safe House

I got a safe house,

and it’s not what you’d expect.

It’s made of paper,

and it’s hidden underneath my bed.

I got a safe house,

and it calls to me.

When I’m in the dark and all alone,

somehow it sparks a fire in my soul.

I got a safe house,

and it wraps its walls around me.

I’m on the sacred ground of poetry.

No lies, facades; it’s purity.

And when I’m at my lowest,

sinking down beneath the floor,

I ask God to come and save me,

but he gives me something more.

He gives me talent; He gives me a voice.

It may not come from my throat,

but it sure as hell speaks more.

Yeah, I got a safe house,

and I’ll camp out until the day is done.

I’m losing all my wars,

but the battles are always won.

Meet me at the safe house.

I’ll put the fire on.

We’ll get warm and settled,

and forget we are someone

who has doubts and problems.

Don’t worry, my safe house will solve them.

We’ll be okay,

in the arms of these words.

They’ll hold on and won’t let go

until we are ready and we know

that we can always come back

to the safe house.