You know too many of my secrets,

Too many times you’ve seen me fall;

Your eyes keep track of every weakness

I try to hide under cold armor from the world;


You love about me things which aren’t

Deserving of more than contempt;

You like the smiles, the tears, the frowns that

I hate – just like most other features of my self;


My eccentricities don’t scare you,

My doubts don’t make you doubt your choice

To be with someone ever-absent,

Who’s all her own and won’t be yours;


And in your hands my ill-kept secrets

Are deadly weapons, which you use

When with those hands you bend and break me,

And through your mouth spit out abuse


You love about me all that’s ugly

Because those spots aren’t hard to hit;

Against my own self-hate defenseless,

I stay; for who will feed your anger if I leave?


My eccentricities don’t scare you –

They, too are targets for your blows,

But this unyielding something in me

Your fists can’t reach, is still my own;


It is the pride that I was born with,

Which some like you would take away;

It is the courage to be smiling, crying, frowning

With a bruised face, day after day;


It is the hope, too, that one morning

I would wake up and wouldn’t need

Somebody by my side, destroying

My body – to distracts me from the pain under my skin