I have survived the fists that fly
blurry
furious intently pelting my face
my stomach
my chest.
But these were not the weapons
that bested me.
I have derived strength when under attack
beneath an onslaught of miniscule swords.
The blades that had made the scars that have Frankensteined my arms.
The points of injection
meant to numb the pain of a lovers rejection,
festered the wound at muscles depth an infection.
At the target I aimed and I missed, and I missed and I missed-
flames took the...