Even though I know
the words you say
speak more of you
than they could ever speak of me

it hurts.

Even though I know
the venom you sputter
will make you sick
far more than it will ever get at me

it hurts.

Even though I know
the picture that you paint of me
is but the reflection
of the image in your brain

it hurts.

Such poisonous talk and attitude
used to bring me down.
It doesn't anymore.
But still

it hurts.

So now I want to look after myself
and with the loving, caring half of me
comfort the hurting half
untill we both say

I'm okay.