I don’t remember

how I met her,

but I remember

being her student.

She was frightening,

a shadow

watching my every move.

I grew quiet around her,

hoping to make my life a little easier.

It didn’t work,

but it was easier

than having a conversation with her.

I always wondered where you were.

Were you close?

Far away?

Unwilling to get involved?

Maybe somewhere in between?

I don’t know,

but I think I may have seen you.

The moments

were few and far between.

They were rare,

but welcomed,

even if I said nothing.

You stood beside all of them.

The scary teacher

who always wanted more.

The aid and teacher

who looked out for me

when she was there.

But I didn’t see you.

It could have been

my imagination.