Gritted teeth.

It’s not that I don’t feel safe,
It’s that I do not feel at ease.
I do not trust their motive or their judgement,
It’s just how I perceive,
The way they act,
The things they say,
Oft’ the way it’s said.
What would possess someone to be like that?
What goes on inside their head?
Oh, to pull up the drawbridge,
To put them in a past.
Instead, I push on through gritted teeth.
The sky before me, my hope, is vast.