I used to be afraid of rubber bands,
Their amorphous shape,
Their elasticity threatening to entangle me,
Trapped.
One summer they followed me everywhere,
Appearing on gravely sidewalks,
Strewn across concrete steps,
Tangled throughout lilac bushes,
They scared me,
The same way I was afraid of love,
Trapped by death and heartbreak.
I knew a sign when I saw it,
So started gathering them,
Repeating my spell every time I bent down,
“I am not afraid of love.”
Until I’d collected a glass jar of fear,
Packed tightly with rubber bands.