I Am Scared — A Reflection on Words and Wounds

 

I’m afraid—
Not of meeting someone,
But of the conversations that follow.
For knowingly, or not,
They probe,
They laugh,
And rarely do they regret.
Instead, they mark my hurt with a shrug—
“Oh, I was just joking!
You took it too seriously.”

I’m afraid—
Not of what lies ahead,
But of how my past
Becomes a story for others to mock.
A moment of pain
Turned into their punchline.

I do not fear my future.
But still, they ask—
“What if this happens to you?”
Not to understand,
But to judge.
Rarely do they place themselves
In the shoes of the questioned.

And though I say I’m not scared,
That I live a joyful present—
Still, I fear
The darkness in their thoughts,
The weight of their words.
For you never know
What they’ll ask,
Or how deeply it might cut.