Do you love me now?

After I’ve gone to such lengths to straighten out

the kinks and fill in the chinks in my armour.

I try to smile and look respectable,

though it’s my reputation on the line and not yours,

and here the line is curved and squiggly.

It’s not just god, faith and honour anymore,

though I’m willing to try, even if the cost is terrible.

 

Do you love me now?

I know I’m far from your favoured child,

and even the non-survivors are preferred, somehow.

I would bend my back for someone else,

and am totally frank within the circles I walk,

except at Christmas when we sit in a neat line on the couch,

I’m hiding, lying, when you ask me if anyone’s asked me out.

I wish I could say, but around you I lose the ability to talk.

 

Do you love me now?

I traded away my happiness just so that you

could point to a sheet of paper and claim how you always knew

I would be a success in life.

If only you knew, how I’ve succeeded in my own right,

in part by being the very creature you believe to be a blight,

and I don’t care if my friend’s a futile goal.

I’ve taken your ‘curse’ and made into my own.

 

Would you love me now?

When I was young I would hide inside my wardrobe,

hoping I’d find a Narnia, while you were arguing outside.

It feels somewhat similar now, and when

you sent me my birthday gift, I didn’t know what I should do.

I decided long ago I wasn’t going to live my life for you.

Like a detached leaf, I depend on fortune and wind,

and tried to shed my chameleon skin – but would you love me if you knew?