The first words that we learn
are spoken from above,
but the only truth we know
lurks beneath the tongue
in spaces forgot.
We bite until it bleeds
and swallow back ourselves.
We were raised by secrets
and rumors held our hands
and when we crossed the street
the neighbors hid their lamps.
Like beggars we feed,
put our faith in crumbs,
and wean ourselves on please.
These lines around my eyes
say that I'm alive
and this scar on my chin
shows that I have been
face-first on the street,
learned the first rule of this world:
we were born to bleed.