Show them the bite marks

On your hands and thighs,

From when you slapped waves

And saved yourself from slavery

And Death.

Show them the scars

On your head from when

You carried people who were

Carving middle fingers on it.

Show them the burns all over

Your body from when you

Walked out of hell with the

Devil’s head.

There might be one or two

Knives too deep for removal

Up your back.

Show them the mounds they form

When you bend.

Show them all the scars

Whenever they ask why,

But smile to hide the ones

In your heart and head.