She’s Going to Win She Says With a Grin

She weighs in

Ready to leave behind

Dead memory
Old places
Empty face entanglements
 

Meant for madness 

Of course

But she is not overtaken

Strong and fit

She empties out her sadness
 

Forgotten tears

Pathetic situations

Deep heartaches

Crazier conundrums

And wounds that seared
 

A cat of nine lives

She’s knocked them all out

Not on technicality

But on fight…

Every hit she landed

Landslide wins

And scars to prove it

Cuts, brokenness

And heartache

Left her grateful-handed

Who is this that challenges? 

Who calls herself to bleed?

Her agreesor

Will it pulverize her

Throw the towel and make her ceed?
 

Knock her down

Knock her out

Make her crazy

Will she steady?

… We will see

Seen with a stride

Honor is on her side

Wonder at her fingertips

Throwing magic

Love she lifts

Lifting a hypnotic punch

She directs the hit

With a sorcerers madness

And her brand

Of divinity
 

Divine child-like-edness

Grateful, grateful she whispers

And she steps into the ring

Again, for the very first time

She begins…

Smiling

She says she’s going to win.

© Sandy Hibbard