This place is where I am safe.
Sprung fast from a form too scared to hold me, I careen to the rafters, fear billowing behind.
Away from whatever I can’t stand or name. Another pill to swallow, another mirror held, to reflect an image I don’t recognise and can’t quite grasp, and yet holds me in her grip like death.
Because I am lucky he comes to find me. Hand outstretched, palm up, as if to encourage a wild bird to perch.
Fixed as I am, my eye gimleted with nervous strength He softens and soothes.
There, it’s OK.
There, just breathe.
There, you are safe.
And his there, becomes my safe there.
eye posted on Fetlife February 2014