Fear followed me into adulthood
like a shadow that knew my name.
By the time I was a teenager,
I was already searching for someone
who could make me feel safe.
What others called boy-crazy
was never really about attention.
It was the ache of a frightened heart
looking for shelter.
I confused closeness with protection,
attachment with safety.
I did not yet know
the difference between being held
and being possessed.
Control arrived dressed as comfort,
and I clung to it
like a child reaching for a railing
in the dark.
I thought safety meant
never being left,
never being abandoned,
never standing alone with my fear.
So I gave pieces of myself away
in exchange for the illusion
of protection.
No comments:
Post a Comment