It’s when death seemed like the kindest escape
That she knew she was in danger
The threat was not the reality of circumstance
Of being pushed to feel as if she should live no more
The threat was herself
That she was her own enemy
And had to be her own hero
That she was the victim
The culprit
And the only witness
She was everything she had no strength for.
The question was not if she hated herself
Nor if she had ever been loved
But rather:
Why was it so easy to fear herself
To fear for herself
And to fear?