I was raised in these walls,
and I grew accustomed to them.
It is where I feel the safest,
and the most comfortale.
I laugh with my family and we are open.

I start to lie on the ground
and roll in good spirits-
NO! Desist!
I tell myself.
No one told me not to.
I do not roll,
I lose that joy.

I have a song stuck in my head,
and I want so badly to sin it-
NO! Be silent!
I tell myself.
Why?
I'm always told it's alright to,
but now the song is lost.
I feel uncomfortable and judged,
my actions are carefully made,
caution always in mind.
I fear my own home,
I fear judgment.

Judgment of what?
Being myself?
Or because I was raised this way?
I was told to express myself,
that reckless excitement is the key to joy!
And yet,
I fear.

I fear judgment,
and I fear intolerance.