No Where to Hide

She said, “I hate the sound of arguing,” Her head stooped low.
“…even anger in jest," she said. "I’ll run where I can go.
I feel people’s fury and... need I say more,
except I hate having no where to hide.”

She said, “I hid in a dark cupboard once and held my breath,
unsure of which I feared more; my life or my death.
My every breath was stolen in that breath-snatching theft,
now, I hate having no where to hide.”

She said, “You’d think that as a child I’d be easy to conceal
but I felt clumsy in the corners where I’d run to squat or kneel.
Now I’ve grown, my panic's stretched to as gigantic as I feel
and I hate having no where to hide.”

She can sense your inner anger, and she told me to say,
you'll stand alone when she's gone. She'll run away.
So, speak softly, like to little ones. Make the child within her stay,
because she hates having no where to hide.