I want to learn to fight

There's no glory in my safety here
With comforts trickling, slowly, but steadily
That I am never starved.

(Or: I feel like I'm smooching off of my mum for I am without a job, but living comfortably and have extended my stay in college)

I want to throw myself into a pit of wolves
To fight and give myself no choice
I know that a warrior is hiding inside
Even if once pampered, I am extracted from the cushion under my behind.

(Or: Maybe if I just threw myself on the field my survival instinct would actually kick in like it always has? Then I just wanted an excuse to mention my butt.)

But even in my desperation I see
that summoning danger will only serve me until the throbbing in my chest
the rush of my pulse
has calmed

(Or: The survival thingy only lasts for a while, and so does the sense of fulfillment that comes with it. I need to do something I really love. Faking it doesn't work well for me. Or at the very least, it doesn't last long. Also, I had a heart time figuring out when to end the lines. Obviously)

I want to fight, but I want to feel like I'm fighting for a reason.

(Or: ...Actually that one was pretty straightforward.)

((except for fighting, I don't actually like fights. I'm a pasa-fish. Pacifist. Pacific fish..))