Sledgehammer words break through
the sheet of normality I constructed around myself.
How do you pierce my flesh with one remark?
Yet again, I must bury the versions of me you dislike.
How much more must I reinvent myself to please you?
I am running out of traits to edit.
My personality is exhausted
from twisting itself into something I do not recognize.
Must I die a thousand deaths before you love me?