Must you count the creases on my forehead
For you to believe me?
Must you see my blood?
Must you see me crawling on my hands and knees
Towards your feet
Grovelling against stone and mud?

"See it to believe it,"
You hear it and still can't perceive it.
Must it be an object?
Must you be able to hold it? Feel it?
Must I give it to you so you can keep it?
Analyse it? Question it?
Will all that finally make you believe it?
Believe that this sorrow is real?
Believe in this pain I feel?
And what will happen then?
After you have seen me naked?
Will all that finally be enough
To pay for a hug,
To rent out a bit of your love?