sometimes a smile triggers me feeling hurt.
i was called, bothered, disturbed, upon to move my body and change my words as early as i can rememember.
a smiling face liked me if i turned around and changed my face and spelled it out with love not hate.
if i was feeling love or hate was not a question.
i was tortured if i asked again, if i tried to stop, or go, away. i was just loved more.