Fight // Recovery
Each breath I feel the army wanting to
push the barricade
I swallow so much saliva it washes back
the front line back into the sea from which they arose
They are fighters, no matter how hard I
put up a resistance
Their target is to get as much as their men
Out to safety
Too bad safety is just a fall to their death,
into a bigger poll full of pain and misery and
a double chocolate chip cookie.
It is not by chouce these men fight
Rather it was their commander that marched them
to their deaths
For my relationship with their leader has been muddied by
my self hate and harm
I've done to them
The second line of offense is up and pushed even harder
To the point I cannot hold back the fleet
Then--
There I am again
Clutching my stomach
Ballooning my cheeks
And spewing a fight I couldn't win
Making a big pool of my pain and misery and
a double chocolate chip cookie.