Will I ever stop being afraid of you?

 

I set a small boundary

and refuse to answer your question.

Your rage bubbles up out of nowhere.

You utter a bitter “fuck”

even though you hate that word.

You interrogate me.

You try to shame me.

 

I have spent my life

afraid of your anger,

living small

to avoid your wrath.

 

Many are the times

I have wanted to

kill myself

after a guilt tripping lecture

from you.

 

You have the power to destroy me

or, even worse,

make me destroy myself.

 

I used to think I’d be free

after your death.

But the nagging voice in my head

and the constant dread

of everything shattering

without warning,

those are forever.

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