The ante on the brawl.

I’m seething in my spirit through this combat with my core
Struggling to comprehend what’s between love and war
Crusading to the depths of unfathomable terrain
Yet again, only to stumble upon this proverbial pain
 
This aching in my chest leaves me winded beneath my ribcage
My bones brittle and unaware take a blow in fury continuing to shake
A calm quietly falls over us like the snow to the ground
Then regret rushes in as the whirlwind begins to die down
 
In defense of your confessions you attempt an apology 
Aware of the countless others who laid their’ bruised “love” on me
Feeling inadequate now I am wedged within this lucid dream
Constantly counting my mistakes and deeming them to be blessings
 
The ante on this brawl was vast to say the least
A measureless wager with no hope for safety
Entrusting in our capacity to prevail over this defeat
I clutch to this and put it in my memory then call it my fallacy
 
 
 
What is it we hope to gain?
When we try to ante up with that
In which the brawl already took away
Where is it we hope to go?
When our safety was the wager
And the tale of the battle will be left untold
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2 thoughts on “The ante on the brawl.

  1. Naomi,
    A sadly powerful poem, thanks for sharing. Also, thank you for stopping by Aspiring to Inspire – the like of my poem “Echo” and the follow. I appreciate your time.

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