Strength Through Wounding

I met him through a boy I disliked,
And that, along with his eyes,
Should have been enough for me to tell,
That to me he would spread lies.

But all the same I let him take me
Far beyond my comfort zone.
To a place that I have never seen
Nor will ever call my home.

He made me cry with my own choices
And put awkward stances first.
It seems to me that meeting nightmares
Has of late become my curse.

But I am truly the one to blame,
For these sins I did myself.
But at least I know how to employ
The great art of slyness: stealth.