Analysis of Fear

How come I know before I see,
That he is standing there?
How come I see before I turn,
That angry, raging, glare?

What is the thing that takes my breath,
And squeezes it so tight?
Whose is the hand that holds me still,
So I can’t run in fright?

What is the lump stuck in my throat,
As tears stream from my eyes?
Is it the words I cannot say,
Cause they are stuck inside?

Where does the noise go from my scream,
So I can’t make a sound?
Why do I stand and wait for him,
To knock me to the ground.