thorns and other maladies

22

i am afraid that i will never grow up
that i am forever cursed to be this
pathetic beaten child
who can't look people in the eye
or speak a word to strangers
who cries over all the little things
and breaks down at the drop off a hat
i fear that i will always be scared
that i will be forever catching my breath
and gasping for air
always counting my senses and primary numbers
constantly ruining things for myself
and making everything so hard—
i wonder often what kind of person i'd be
if i wasn't always so afraid
so terrified of the monsters
lurking in dark corners
who would i be?
what kind of life would i live?
i try so hard to imagine
but i just can't picture it
who am i if not full of fear?
who am i if not a coward?
and perhaps that's what i'm afraid of most:
that it's all i am.
that this fear is what i am made of.
that'll i'll never be anything more.