You’re the face of the angry parent, cutting me down with your words.
The face of the bullies waiting in the school yard to share their insecurities with me.
You’re the face of the neighbor, the best friend, the preacher, the teacher, the face of the men who raped me.
You’re the face of the police officer, the judge, the politician. Those who would rather blame the victim than deal with violence so many of us face on a daily basis.
You’re the face of the vanishing lover and the absentee father, your the face in the bathroom mirror that I can’t wipe away.
You’re the faces that I carry with me everyday. You remind me that I’m still here, that you did not break me. The face that I wear may be cracked and worn but it is one of dignity, strength and defiance.
The face is me