my corner

what now, am I supposed to
sigh and cry and die
alone in my corner?
maybe this is a boxing metaphor
and I’ll come out swinging instead.
you really expect me
just to take this lying down?

here’s a punch: ask your therapist –
or your mama – how it is
that I’m not good enough for you
and too good for you
at the same time. ask yourself
what kind of life you get
after always taking
the path of least resistance
out of fear.
you’re the one telling yourself
this bullshit story
where you’re always the serf,
never the fighter.
you’re the one who’s deciding
there’s no point in even trying.
you’re the one who’s choosing to be
on the outside looking in.

I made a place for you
in my heart – which is not
something I do lightly, or easily,
appearances to the contrary –
and you don’t even want it.
I could fight you; I think
I could even take you,
but there’s no point.
I refuse to battle
for a place on the sidelines
when I deserve to be
the main event.

Published by

R. Brookes McKenzie

what fresh hell is this

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