The Fight 

… and the rain keeps falling –
there’s the sting in my heart,
a familiar reminder,
of what’s fallen apart

Countless decisions,
made mostly from fear,
scared to go alone,
uncomfortable near

Possibilities shouted,
my mind goes numb,
forced into battle –
the chosen one,
sifted with nails
that stab and destroy,
a pawn in the game 
disposable toy.

Like a machine,
keep forging, no rest
squeezing the worst,
into Sunday’s best 

Then back to the war,
never to slow,
anger the arrow – 
sadness the bow 

it’s up to my waist,
the waves start to rise.
Before I go under,
I close my eyes,
and drift off to sleep,
ignoring the ache – 
but the hurt doesn’t leave,
it’s there when I wake. 

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