Battle cries.

People get words confused. Trying to be kind turns into battle wounds and trying to take those blows turns into wars.
Replace “busy” with “no longer a priority” and remove your armor. You can lose the helmet. I’m not taking the swings. I’m not taking the blows.  I’m  not fighting a battle that I’ve already lost.
In the clash of the steel and the dust from our feet, I’ve come to realize you don’t care if you lose me.
Apathy ruins the spoils of war, the possible heads to slide on to stakes, the cries of indignation are now just cries of mistakes.
Don’t confuse your battle cries.


4 thoughts on “Battle cries.

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