Broken

It's not the first time you're here, son
Words bleeding from my mouth
Coloured red like the stains on my clothes
Forcing angry tears to stay on the inside.

You have to give us names, son
Hands squeezing my shoulders
But there's no warmth in your voice
You say we're concerned, but I'm not your child.

I'm leaking memories
They're leaving my body like a spring flood
Grownups wearing forced smiles
Their faces look like deflated balloons.

Suffocate

The sky is a menacing dark grey, so heavy I'm expecting it to fall down and bury me under piles of wet cotton. I'm standing in a frozen field, my arms outstretched like airplane wings. A soft crying coming from my mouth, or maybe it's the sound of a faraway engine. Nature asleep under my feet, dreaming of spring and pale yellow sunshine. My breath coloured white, dancing in the fading daylight. The clouds are so near I can touch them with my hand, they feel like spun sugar covered with ice. I'm taking big gulps of air, imagining a boy wearing a gasmask during the war. There's panic in his eyes, he's fighting the urge to remove it and breathe in the poisonous fumes. Mother and father are somewhere behind me, they're calling out dinner is ready. Run.

A Safe Place

There's a place far away where every day is a fresh beginning, an unwritten page, blinding white sheets drying in the sun. Houses far apart, homes scattered like toys on a child's bedroom floor. I can hear the wind, feel it on my face, it's whispering gently in my ear, telling me you'll be safe here. If I listen carefully, hold my breath for just a moment, I can hear things grow, new life breaking the earth's surface. It's always spring in this place, where sleeping trees wake to stretch their stiff branches, reach for the pale sunlight and come to life. It's a magic trick that never ends. A miracle I can believe in.

There's room to breathe, play and roam. I'm the boy exploring while Mother Nature keeps a watchful eye on her young, making sure we're safe from them and the evils of this world. The quiet is a soft blanket draped around my shoulders, it feels like being held, comforted by a close friend. The way a mother sings her child to sleep, I'm warm, protected in her arms. Fresh air in my lungs, strong bones, at home in my body and the wide open space around me. Running 'til my legs get tired, there's nothing blocking my way, no towering buildings stealing my sunlight. I've been given all the time in the world to think, listen and learn. This is my healing place, my fantasy. Please, can I stay here?