i am all bloody knuckles and rusty-stained teeth and splinted, jagged edges
so in hindsight, and i’ve always spit my excuses back at you like the molten iron that pools in my
mouth, you should have known much, much better

you know: you used to say you were a lover, not a fighter, and you said it through a smile, your
teeth flashing with how clean they were, and i was smitten with them then, so i believed you
you’re such a liar, such a silver-tongued devil, and the worse part is that i knew it, i saw through you

but you licked my wounds until they were nothing but bruises, so who was i to speak up?
all is fair in love and war, but dear Lord, who ever said they were mutually exclusive?
venus and mars are in an affair, and no one bothers to recognize it but me
not even all the cloth bandages in the world could patch us up
but i told you, i did! i said i put up a good fight; it’s not my fault you said you could take me

i was a wild one, weaned on the slide of asphalt scraping the skin of my cheek
i grew up with my fists raised and a stone-cold cradle of concrete
and you saw me, heart held behind a million daggers and a million more bruises
and you decided you wanted me, swore you could handle it, and oh, baby, were you punching
well above your weight class

it wasn’t just me beating the life out of us, no
this was a team fight, dear, don’t you think it was a solo match
i am scarred, and my teeth will never not be bared, but it is by no fault of mine that you thought
we could have a love that didn’t end up knocking out by the first round

i can handle the broken bones (but i must applaud you for healing equally as well)
but i should have been strong enough to kill us sooner
everyone saw it coming, and everyone knew how i was, and everyone warned the two of us,
but as it so turns out—everyone loves a fighter, too