I heard a door slam.
again.
He's angry.
again.
He'll leave for a while
always smelling like lilac when he returns.
Always apologetic.
Always defensive if I have questions.
When he comes home
he'll wrap me in his arms
and whisper that it's okay.
And I'll fall into the feeling of it.
That feeling is a trap.
That feeling tells me it IS okay.
It tells me we are safe. Warm.
The thing is,
That safety,
that warmth,
it dissolves one hundred times faster
than it comes.
Our strong, safe love
fades away into fear, regret, shame.
When he comes home, he'll know just what to say.
When he comes home,
I will show him strength.
