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.