Fights
     They throw words like little hand grenades
because in our house, we cannot use fists
       (I feel that those would hurt less)
and he,
small boy full of rage and sound and not much else
with fists balled to tight
each wanting to strike out, to break his sister's stupid face

Searching through the catacombs of his mind he thought only of falling through a war chest
searching for some sharpened bone or anything to use
he was a skilled warrior of the shadows
with one jab he could ****** thorns through her guarded heart
the precision of a sibling ****** on his side
he had wounded her before
he almost always won
but his wretched
sister
refused to lose this time
refused to be out manipulated

She too had been training
sharpening a silver tongue
that usually served as a shield to her brother's barbs and wicked advances
but today it was a dagger
and assassin for the old king

"You never loved me," he lunged with a flourish
She parried with a cuss word and a sigh
he danced aside, and jabbed at her flank
"I'm going to jump off the cliff" he declared
she scowled
this move usually did her in, but with one glare, she kicked the sword from his hand, and rounded upon him
no fencing foil was on her, no seemly battle ax
but a dagger
and she drew in close
the killing blow
"You are only my half brother" she whispered
and he
was vanquished

The battle done, the two sunk to their knees
and sobbed

Fights
    They throw words like little hand grenades
because in our house, we cannot use fists
       (I feel that those would hurt less)