rings aren't just meant for fingers.

"don't call my name out your window - i'm leaving." "and I've got a twenty-dollar bill that says you're up late night starting fist fights versus fences in your backyard, wearing your black eye like a

we'll fight and fight until our
lungs are hoarse and our
eyes are black and blue,
until the blood gushes
from our noses and mouths.
we'll fight until there is skin
under our fingernails,
until our breath is
thick and heavy with effort.
but, baby --
what are we fighting for?
each other?
the scales are tipped in
favor of "against,"
not "for."
we fight against the one we
love the most.
we fight to prove to them that
we love them more than they
love us, or something like that.
we love so ferociously,
with such passion.
but fights take their toll,
and we can't kiss with
bloodied mouths,
can't moan with
hoarse voices.
nails down your back
just aren't the same.
it's hard to see you through
black eyes.


baby --
what are we fighting for?