she asked me "why are you always seeking conflict?".
it was late, and we've had some to drink, maybe more than we should.
i bet you'd like her.
she crept closer to me, hands unrelenting and eyes even more.
"why are you always jumping at the first sight of a fight?"
my hands felt numb, my tongue even more, and it took me some time to answer.
you'd want me to.
still, I can't say:
how could I not?
my father taught me self-sacrifice. he didn't teach me self-preservation.
my mother taught me servitude. she didn't teach me liberation.
"why does your mouth water at the thought of a war? is it a death wish? or some savior complex?"
she's smart. you'd love her.
i clench jaw and fists, out of fear.
i swipe drops of tears and beers.
i steady breath and heart, barely.
my father taught me usefulness.
my mother taught me loyalty.
what else would I be,
if not a sacrifice?
my father taught me to be unwavering.
my mother taught me to be unquestioning.
what else could I be,
if not a soldier?
