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.