Safety in the danger




You’re like me. So if you’re toxic, so am I. And I know you don’t want to call me toxic, so why is it so hard to believe you’re not? You’re a healer. You help me heal my scars.

You accepted me, a girl of her own diversity and race, into your life. You treat me better than anyone else in my world has. You’re half of my heart. To me, you are more precious than any shiny stone.

It doesn’t matter that you have demons lurking beneath your mask. It doesn’t make you weak to cry, nor does it make you less to admit you need help. The only time I’ll look down on you, is when I’m helping you up. You are not weak, you’re one of the strongest people I know.

You call yourself dangerous. But how would living in a world covered in bubble wrap be any fun? Being wrapped so tight only chokes you, it doesn’t protect you.

Just be there if you want to protect me.

Be there and be yourself. Not someone else. Not armed.

If it’s impossible to trust you, then how do I? If you’re so dangerous, how do I find you safe?

I know you’re afraid to hurt me, to put me in danger, but I’m not glass, I’m not that fragile. You are my safety and my shelter. Sometimes, the most ‘dangerous’ and ‘toxic’ things are the safest.

I’ll be there. Through everything. I love you.