Freckles

I let my skin touch the air.
Arms bare.
I’ve never felt anything less safe
Than letting my skin see the sun
While I walk down the road to the milk bar.

11 years old.
Car horn.
Arms bare.

I let my breath move the air.
Arms bare.
I’ve never felt anything less safe
Than letting opinions reach daylight
While I use the words that make me ugly.

18 years old.
Gas light.
Arms bare.

We are all scared of guns.
I am scared to exist.