I Need No Gladiator; My Mouth is a Colosseum

At this point
in my life,
I realize that
those who care
never stop fighting.

That if you had some
type of cancer,
they’d destroy every
toxic cell in your body
until you were cleansed,
flooded with remission.

They wouldn’t be the cancer themselves.
the toxins,
the poisons;
they wouldn’t watch your body collapsing in on itself
without trying one last time to hold you
up.

But,
sweetheart,
you should know by now,
their shoulders will never be
strong enough
to bear your weight,
to resist
your flames.

There are gods of wrath,
but there also
avenging angels.

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