the tugging

Tug of War begins with battle cries

The mud on my face is simply a trophy of the things I've survived.

Your naivete is unmatchable and I am sure

That my strength outwits you in every arena.

Something brushes my face,

A ribbon, but it's not white.

I hoped for your surrender, but what was I expecting?

Sarcasm you'll get, a gift, a reminder

Of how little I care and how much I remember.

~