in the east. Now there’s no one to save me
from the grenades falling in dictation,
shrapnel scorching my skin in three degrees.
I know you can see me holding my knees
here on the floor, bracing against the storm
because I can’t mask the pain in my voice
whispering, “come back, please”.
Your voice echoes through the phone, keeps me warm
on the tile, telling me I have a choice-
to follow him and the bruises he leaves
or stay far from the nothing he promised
I’d be. Safe haven, taken by the sea’s
greedy current, feeding on the calmness
that I need next to me, not through the phone.
My head won’t stop spinning in the dark,
my hands are shaking, this fever still rings.
I am lost and alone
in this life; your absence has left its mark.
“Safe haven, come back for me,” my soul screams.