I just wanna feel safe again

This is the thing about height,
that for once,
I’m shrouded by someone that can make me feel small again,
easy to carry,
wrap,
and engulf in one steady breath.

Like my outside matches how
I’m feeling inside
and someone is taking care of me,
for once.

It’s always
“for once”
but never twice
because otherwise
I internalize wanting to be this feeble
thing that craves protection
and affection
and forehead kisses like they are
all the same thing,
found within the same person.

That my life is (once) again
under his control
and I am no longer brotherless.
That hugs and hand holding are understood
to make sure my fingers
can still make contact
with warm bodies
even though I’m freezing
from the inside out.

I missed the memo where
depression
turns warm.

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