I switched homes in late June,
from Missouri to Kansas.
I came to a new school-
one I saw when I was young,
but never had much interest in.
That's not really important,
Not as important as the fact I've been trying to make new friends.
Yet so much of me is scarred,
from the isolation,
from the manipulation,
from the ****.
There are days I think I see your face in the hallway.
My gut panics, but on the outside,
I look at my friends,
or straight ahead,
and that swing of feigned confidence
goes to my hips,
and I act as if I am not afraid.
So much of me is scarred from the fear.
You made me too terrified to accept physical affection from a lover-
or even a friend-
for over sixth months.
It took so much out of me hold Adrian’s hand.
But I did it.
Ever since that break up-
minus a five month gap-
he had been the only one to care for me.
And I am so grateful for that.
But now, nearing the end of the year,
inching closer to February,
I have so much anxiety.
I am afraid you know where I live.
I am afraid you still have my phone number.
I am afraid for my life.
I had a panic attack at midnight,
because I am finally revealing
the full extent of the fear you have caused me
to my dearest.
You have made me afraid to share my pains.
You have made me experience a fear no one should have to experience.
You have made me experience terror.
