Fear seemed to follow me
Since I was a little girl
Afraid to raise my hand to go to the bathroom
It seemed like something was yanking my hand down
I would always end up with a wet stain on my pants
Which is ironically scarier than saying,
"Teacher, I have to go!"
But I kept staying silent, and I kept using it in my clothes.
Fear seemed to lick at my ears
As I found love in Bible stories and praying and learning about this man named Jesus
And when I discovered something at a young age
And I did something at a young age
That you could consider 'traumatic'
Fear danced around me once more
I no longer wanted to hug anyone
Were they filled with itchy spiders of memories?
Would their hands brush past me, cobwebs of hate and disgust?
I did not want anyone near me.
God seemed so far away
And fear seemed so close
That I could smell its breath
And it was nasty.