What you don't understand,
is that the fight in me
kept me alive time and time again,
when literally a gun was to my head,
when I did not know if I would see morning,
when my body was no longer my own.
If you had a dog, pretty and sweet-natured,
but she had been kicked...
until she foamed in fear at the sight of a boot,
and if you loved the dog,
you would forever take your shoes off,
and you would never allow
a boot near her again.