She doesn’t wear boots

 
 
She has felt scared most of her life . Afraid of the shape and anger in a fist . Nervous of words that convey adjectives only to hurt and split her in two .  She’s become hypersensitive to fear it’s got her wrapped around it’s fingers and it spreads like wild  
fire . It stops her from living to just existing and the saddest thing of all is she just accepts it . Her response now isn’t to stand up but just sit down with a companion with arms loosely holding her heart and head and a name called shaking in your boots . She consciously never wears them but she is very aware  
of them.