All I want
is a safe haven.
Hidden away from the pains,
the criticizing eyes, and the broken house with
the floorboards tilting, cracking, and snapping
below the flabs of skin
I used to call feet.
All I’m asking for
Is a safe haven;
An escape from red cheeks
And traitorously shiny eyes and
White enamel revealed
Under cracking lips—
Lips of a lush salmon
Sensitively searching for
A hopeless counterpart.
All I’m fighting for
Is a safe haven
Where those who
Have pink hair
Can rest. I don’t have pink hair,
But I’m just saying that
I am dying for a safe haven.
A place to stake my heart through
With a shard of realism,
And swab my mind
With an extra-large Q-tip
And still be happy.
That’s all I’m asking for.
That’s it.
My safe haven.