Anxiety's Shield

She loves those deemed unlovable. The creepy crawling she befriends. She protects the spiders and says hello to the snake. She leaves gifts for the crows and hopes it's something one might take.

Intimidating to humans, she provides refuge to the eight-legged and four-legged.

She's healed the injured, cleaned and protected their wounds.

She unknowingly creates an altar on a marble window ledge. Her daughter points it out. It's filled with trinkets, feathers, and stones. Jars of herbs and tinctures line the countertops. A used mortar and pestle sit in the corner.

She dreams of a home library with a Gothic feel, a large stone fireplace, and soft, dark leather furniture to fill the space.

Everything about her is perfectly wild. An unsettling appearance with half-blue, half-green eyes. Face touched by the sun. Rare in her own right, yet she is avoided like a black widow, sleek and shining as the pendant around her neck. A talisman she always wears in social situations. Dark vanilla and amber wrap around her as if the scent itself is obsessed with her every curve and crevice. Long, black hair sways at her waist, stirring the scent as she walks.

Some openly stare, while others quickly avert their gazes, as if she has glimpsed their souls. She does not participate in gossip and idle conversations. Her presence alone is disruptive, without speaking a word. All of it is a shield, hiding the anxiety that grips her mind.

She is me.