I thought of who would fight for me
When war was waged
I thought of whose hands would grip the handle of a blade
And wield it in my honor

Who would bleed
Throwing fists and kicks
Slicing skin with sharpened knives
Raising a hand in triumph
Believing that I was worthy of it all

Certainly, I should defend myself
But my hands are covered in bruises
Knuckles covered in open wounds
Blood dripping between my fingers

My heart is tired
From the battles I’ve won
On my own

Twisted ankles
Sprain wrists
Fractured bones
Concussion
After
Concussion
After
Concussion

I thought of who would fight for me
Of who would risk their lives for my benefit

It’s lonely here
But I must continue to fight