Things About Games and Love

When you strike first, you know you can take the lead.

When I look at you with blank eyes, I know you’re bound to win.

When you strike again, you know you’re bound to be the winner.

I’m scared for you to be the winner in our never ending game.

I stand back up every time,

Just to be knocked down in a fury.

Just to be picked back up,

And struck again.

Never to fight back.

Only to be knocked down,

Again, and again.

 

No matter where we go I’m just another pawn.

In a little game I call love,

And a little game you don’t talk about, but will continue with.

A game that you say,

“ I promise it will never happen again,” about.

And I smile at you and say,

“I love you too”.

Forcing myself further and further

Into a game I will never win.

 

As months pass, we’re playing more often,

Sometimes I don’t get back up,

Not until the screaming starts.

And soon, I’m screaming too.

I yell and kick and I force myself to try.

I try to get a strike every time you do.

For your five, I can make one.

But soon strikes turn into threats,

And screams in the night,

And plotting.

Plotting my next defense, and

Plotting my escape.

Sweet escape, is so close.

 

It’s hard to not flinch when I’m touched gingerly.

It’s hard to be appreciative of a softer touch,

Or of gratitude.

But it’s easier to breathe.

Your game smothered me,

And I forgot how to breathe on my own.

I have all of the fresh air I could ask for now.

When I look at him, I know we don’t need strikes.

When he looks at me, he doesn’t see games.

When I look at him, I can paint a picture,

And I call it love.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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