Safety.
I want safety for every child that sees the sting of death and aggression of war. I want safety for the lands that are cut up and sold for profit. I want safety for those who are told that their presence doesn’t matter. I want safety for every woman who walks home alone at night. I want safety for every tree razed to the ground for economic progress. I want safety for our queer youth who wonder if home is really home at all. Safety was never meant to be earned, was it? WAS IT? And yet, we treat it like something the privileged have sacrificed for, like the families we’ve lost again and again to the chains of colonialism haven’t sacrificed for it, ached for it, longed for it, died in search of it. Safety is a human right, and we have forgotten. Future generations, forgive us. We want more for every single one of you, and we are clawing our way to get there.
Safety net.
Safety pin.
Safety comes
From within.
Am I being
Good to me?
Speaking truth
Authentically?
Knowing when
To pause - to hold.
Other times
Brave and bold.
The pin can keep
It all together.
Wrapped up tight -
Fit to weather.
It can also pierce -
Deflate -
Boundaries not so
Separate.
I catch glimpses -
Not there yet -
I am my own
Safety net.
The house is quiet, never silent
With the a/c cranking on
And the fridge humming it’s night song
Like a jukebox to the ghosts
Of diners around our kitchen table.
The house is quiet, never silent
With our daughter muttering words
In her sleep like subtitles
To her wandering dreams.
The house is quiet, never silent
To the dregs of today’s worries,
But we are all tucked in bed
With side lamps and chapter books
And cups of water, like the children
We are. Like a child should be.