i remember
when i was little
the tub would overflow and i would get this awful fear that clutched at my chest
but my heart resisted being torn out

i remember
when i was little
seeing the smoking Twin Towers and i didn't understand what a terrorist was
so i would have nightmares of terrorists climbing the trees in the backyard
and looking at me through the window
it's the kind of fear that makes you question your own breathing

it's like your heart is asking you, "are you still alive?"

i remember
a few years ago
i had the mental capacity to experience suffering
i would take a paddle and hit the pain pong ball against the walls of my head over and over again

i could write it into the soles of my feet and i wouldn't even squirm from being tickled

am i overly sensitive now?

i can't even finish this poem for fear-