So Who Wins?

And fuck
fuck
fuck
did your parents fight
a lot
because we can't seem
to talk
for five minutes
without the shit flying
into the fan
Every molehill
is a mountain
with frostbitten corpses
lining its trails
Every arrow
points
to the enormous
exit sign
you think I'm trying to find
My cuticle scissors
are a weapon
you'd like to
confiscate
at the gate
because
through your
distorted x-ray eye
you see
infidelity
mistrust
disloyalty
where there is
really only hope

It isn't perfect
but nothing is
that doesn't mean
we label it
irregular
and toss it in the bin

It's a pair
of beautiful leather shoes
that you have to wear in
maintain
resole
and keep until you die
Not
a stocking with
a run
disposed of
and replaced

Anything worth having
is worth fighting for