Fighter

Fighter

You have the look 

of a fighter, though 

you lack the bruised 

knuckles and split lips. 

High on adrenaline, 

you are all bouncing 

knees and hangnails 

picked ripe and bloody. 

Your hands can't stay still, 

heartbeat smothered yet 

never steady. 

Life on the line, 

you live in the ring--

but never stop 

to take a breather, 

because you'd hate to concede. 

Tangled hair, bitten nails, 

stale feelings, empty shell. 

You're a fighter, yes, 

that much is true. 

But when you

clench your fists, 

who do you picture? 

Is it the crowd?

Or is it you?