Battles...

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 And I fight battles every day

Some wrapped in emails,

Emails that sting and begin with empty thank yous


Others come in the form of a bitter ex,

Begging for love where none remains.

Some battles wear black khaki shorts in winter,

With untamed beards and borrowed charm

Trying to woo her :

Saying "oh, do kiss my broken self, lady"


In some, I fight me

Throw me to the ring

Batter the hell out of her 


The wounds,

Some heal,

Only for my restless hands to pick at their scars.

Others fester

Festering, forgotten,

Until they demand my attention.

Oh, help, come soon.

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