About this poem:

Fear...
isn't it a nasty thing?
While some of us may be afraid of spiders *raises hands...and feet*
Some of us may be afraid of other things.

Survivors of emotional, and s*xual abuse, as well as rape...well...we hate ourselves on a day to day basis, and refuse to let anyone in. We fight love tooth and nail because we don't think we deserve it. I've been fighting this for so long. I started, with emotional and psychological abuse in public school from teachers and students alike, throw in some s*xual abuse from fellow students, then rape about 6 years ago. It's been really painful to love anyone, and when I did I loved the wrong people. The kinds that hurt you in the end. I feel like a butterfly that could rip apart at the faintest touch. A band-aid on my wings would just ground me for life, killing me. It's been so hard to love myself with the world fighting me. So I greet each day with a "What will you do to me now, that you haven't done already?" Then I look in the mirror, if I dare...and think, "Who will love this?" knowing if anyone even tries, I'd push them away. Would they fight back? Would they keep loving me despite my pain?