Thursday, May 16, 2013


A dish served in the darkness garnished with a smirk
The ring is set
Sweat glistens, a heart rapidly beating
Fists clenched, jaws tight

The opponent takes shape.
Eyes full of self-contempt
Muscles spasm to the rhythm of self-judgment
Movements fueled with self-doubt
A whisper, bated breaths
Each one an exchange of someone else’s opinion
The opponent stares back at the fighter
Without warning, lashes out
The fighter,
Oh how he falls

There is nothing more deafening
than the roar of silent denial
He tastes red in the tang of anger
The voices drown
Each one a label on his wounds
Through the blinding pain of self-loathing
The fighter lifts himself up
Recovery is slow
Realization a blur of broken connections
He enunciates 
“It’ll take more than that to keep me down”

Broken bones heal
Broken hearts mend
But broken spirits
Broken spirits do nothing but drift  

Clear as day now
The opponent who looks so much like himself
The opponent is nothing but a parasite to his own thoughts
The holder of his secrets and weaknesses
The gatekeeper of his insecurities
Life itself is hinged on one word
One choice

No comments: