what doesn't **** you makes you
fight yourself
to bring both
a knife and a gun to the fight
behind the club on your kitchen floor on the rooftop
of your old middle school

tho this is not Fight Club and you
are not Tyler D
you fight by shutting down
by a private debate;
offender vs defender vs the spite

your left hook
is to resist the urge to cut off
all your friends and maybe some skin
doesn't always land
but you box your best

some days you grab your own shirt collar
back meets the wall, a stern stare
you flinch -
never know if it's about
though love, shaking in some sense
or will loser hit the asphalt