When I bit the inside of my cheek
I expected the taste of anger
To pour into my mouth and down my throat
I didn't know the pain that would also coat my tongue
And catch in my throat

I hated it
I hated this

But this taste,
Oh that I could spit it out
Or wash it down
Yet no matter how hard I tried
It burned
Oh it burned
The whole way down
To think, to know
And remember

Everything that you said was a blow to the face
Still I turn the other cheek

Hope still, as I would
But you would never know what it is to be gentle, or kind

I suppose the difference between us was so simple
That you need look no further than our hands
Mine, within each other, clammy and clamped together, like every word that I bit back
Yours, a fist in your pocket and a fist behind your back, and oh how you loved to hurt me