dear you,

here's what you don't know 

and might not care to know:

i am afraid of salesmen

and deliverymen

and repairmen

i am afraid of spiders

and ticks

and i spend fifteen minutes checking my room every night

i am afraid of strangers

and when they reach into their pockets

and i always think it's a gun

i am afraid of cars slowing down beside me

and people seeing me go into my house 

and i lock the doors all the time 

and double-check them

and get yelled at

i am afraid of my dog dying

and sometimes i look over just to see if she's breathing

i am afraid of being kidnapped

and i am afraid of pain

i am afraid of dying slowly

and growing older

i am afraid that someone will discover

that one of my closest friends is a dead poet

i am afraid that they will find out

that i sanitize my pencils

and my room 

and my library books

i am afraid that they will learn

that i'd rather die than grow up

but maybe i'm going crazy

not on purpose just on accident

that isn't what i wanted to say

and i don't like the way that all goes

it bothers me

and i might take it down one day

but what i wanted to tell you was

i'm on the same sea

right next to your boat

not in the same one

but right beside

and waving at you

and pulling my hat down on my head

and smiling

and saying hello.