and because keeping it moving is as much a mental and emotional philosophy as it is a physical one for me, a poem:
Why I became a pacifist and then How I became a warrior again
turned out okay
I figured I should just sit
still and chill
except to maybe mumble
'Baby, Baby:
Stop!'
AND
Because turning that other cheek
holding my tongue
refusing to retaliate when the deal got ugly
And because not throwing whoever calls me bitch
out the g-ddamn window
And because swallowing my pride
saying I'm sorry when whoever don't like
one single thing
about me and don't never take a break from
counting up the 65,899 ways I talk wrong
I act wrong
And because sitting on my fist
neglecting to enumerate every incoherent
rigid/raggedy-ass/disrespectful/killer cold
and self-infatuated crime against love
committed by some loudmouth don't know
nothing about it takes 2 to fuck and
it takes 2 to fuck things up
And because making apologies that nobody give a shit about
and because failing to sing my song
finally
finally
got on my absolute nerve
I pick up my sword
I lift up my shield
And I stay ready for war
Because now I live ready for a whole lot more
than that
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