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I live in it.

I breathe it.

It envelops me like a diseased virus going through my body.



It is a fear of not feeling safe, not here not anywhere.

Fear that has settled into my being, heighten by a moment of a knock on the door.

Me, calling in ill to work today only to see my ex standing at the door of my home.

My home, the last place I felt safe, yet have been encompassed by the fear.



Can’t talk about it, the scars, the ones that have healed and the one that are unseen yet open.

From words to physical to sexual. I live in the fear. Her fear.

Looking over my shoulder, watching my every move.

Can’t feel for living in fear.



I am always in an alarmed status towards the possibility of more dismay she has put against me.

Married, yet no able to simply put into words what it is I’m feeling this paranoia of disgruntled ness from a person who is angry with me.

Realizing how true a quote is I read that says,” the anger of one robs the power of another”.



Yet I sit here in my fear, holding it all in, wanting to breathe, to live, but cannot.

Wishing no praying for the freedom I had just the other night where I was at peace, calm, dancing with my ancestors. Me this Jewish girl who is finally starting to also accept her Native American part.



In a moment of clarity as I opened the door to see my ex I told her I was not afraid of her, would have her put away again and to no longer come to my space again.

In that moment I took back my power, and left go of the tears, the scars, the wounds, and yes the fear.