Her

I keep secrets from myself. Afraid of my what my own body can do to me
I'm scared. She lingers on my failures, and falters at my own goodness.
I'm scared that my body doesn't want to be loved. That it walks with frail limbs only to be struck down by the heavy weight of her heart.
I'm scared of my own self that tells me greater things aren't made for me.
 I'm scared of my own value. Only to be reminded that I was cut short of a prize that was never mine.
  I'm scared of the things that you want from me.
  But still we sit here, fingers laced together, fighting the walls that enclose us together.