Keys
Assess the danger
a shorter walk past the trees
or the longer, safer route?
The main road, well lit
passing traffic
but
passing traffic.
A threat, or salvation, or nothing at all, just
more of the same, doors locked at the lights.
Good.
Exactly like their Dad taught them.
They say not to walk alone
but I’m on the late shift
drive then
but I can’t afford the lessons
never mind a car.
I have my keys though.
The magic weapon
plunge them into the weak spots.
Groin
eyes
nose.
He can press over two hundred
he could have a knife
he can be on you before you can see him
but it’s ok
I have my keys.
I have a rape alarm too
it sounds like every other city noise
the ones we ignore
the background
that symphony of modern life that sends babies to sleep
and reminds me in my restless state
that I am not the only one awake.
It went off accidentally in the library once,
people just kept working, lightly laughing after I wrestled
the pin back in beside the journals.
I love to walk,
I’d run too, through the park the setting sun
dappling my skin through the trees
leaving the gates sweaty and breathless
casting my eyes upwards to search for Venus.
But I can’t run alone, not now, not there
not since that twilight moment by the canal.
There were three and there was me
maybe none of them had sisters
girlfriends
wives
or Mothers
maybe they were newly sprung from arrogance
and fear there, on that canal path
or maybe not.
I did not have my keys.
This was my mistake.
But it is so hard to run with keys,
encumbered
when all I want is to be free.
To run in the park
to walk in the dark
to take a shortcut after a late shift
when the rain is pooling in my less than sturdy shoes
to not clutch my keys in my tight fist and pray to go
unnoticed.
I thought for a moment the story had changed
but the me too became lost in politics
her story became his
the people disappeared and we became sides.
Divided.
I’m a threat to masculinity
I’m damaging my husband and my son with my feminist narrative.
I’m a dangerous extremist
but I just wanted to run.
To walk in the dark.
To live free.
Now together we paint freedom
we hope for more
and we create it minute by minute
hour by hour
day by day.
We turn keys in doorways and leave the doors wide open
we discover secret ballrooms
walled gardens
and starlit parks.
We give our keys away
making room for more
for him
and for her.
Gillian Fox – March 2019
internalkindness 