I do not owe you an explanation:
for my fear, for my anger, for my nightmares.
I do not owe you
a reason for my reactions,
or excuses for any of my emotions.
I do not owe you words or ideas or affection,
but mostly, I do not owe you these things
as payment, like promises, or as penance.
I am not obligated to earn your trust;
I am not a debtor, but an owner,
not an achievement, but an actor.
I do not owe you an explanation
and if the blaze of my anger, and the ice
of my fear, and the heat of my sex
do not convince you of this,
then I lose nothing in losing you.