Words by Aurelne (she/her) 25, WA
The following piece may contain themes that might be difficult to read or triggering to some readers. Readers in need can seek support from the following services 1800RESPECT (1800 737 732) or Lifeline (13 11 14) – visit our Creating a Safe Space page to see a full list of support services.
The mornings are always safe.
The smell of ground coffee beans,
Of scrambled eggs on toast,
The sound of chatter from the TV and my family downstairs.
The afternoons are always busy.
But busy is also safe.
The scribbling of pencils,
The flutter of pages,
And all the clutter in the world to fill my mind.
It is not the mornings, or the afternoons,
They are safe.
It is the nights.
The quiet streets,
The dark alleyways,
The empty shops.
When I know no one else will hear my anxious footsteps.
When I know no one else can see my tears.
When I know no one else will fill my empty heart.
Yes, it is the nights that are
The danger zone.
Illustration by Aileen. You can find more of her work on Instagram @aileenngstudio