She grunts, pushing
harder still,
Empty the tank,
empty the tank,
Empty the tank,
she repeats over and over again
It’s not who she’s been for 36 years,
But now in her 37th year,
She is finding
She is a lioness
The fighter,
she always knew she could be,
But never fully believed
is clawing its way to the surface
Her lungs scream from the scratching,
The dribble of blood a small sacrifice,
She growls louder in the dimly lit room,
Driving with her heels,
pulling strong with the arms that were once labeled flailing
rowing fast, faster, faster
A lioness preparing for her first real fight.
