It hit me.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away

The way Rowdy was knocked face first into the ground

The blood & the gaze

I couldn’t look away

And yet it was done.

The smash of the fists crushing her face

Demolished, destroyed

The ref stood up

In horror? Terror? Shock?

Finally he stopped it, but the damage was done


Body? Clearly. Spirit? Maybe permanently.

I thought of her mom

How the first words she’d hear would be


From her mom.

I was sick.

I didn’t know if she would die next

Not from the fight,

From the fight.

The dangers of all or nothing.

If you’re not the mountain, you’re the dirt it sits upon.

You pay-

To be & want the most.

-A price.

A price more costly than death itself.

Death is release.

Loss is unimaginable suffering.

Giving everything, nothing is just yours.

Everyone knows, sees, looks.

Nothing soft.

Kindness wasn’t an option; it has no drive or blood.

There is no nervousness.

Fear is necessary.

Anxious unallowed.

Anger is the best cape

Shroud in black & command your fate

Always an antagonist

Nothing to gain as a hero

Everyone watches & wonders instead:

“What will the villan make the hero do next?”

To be the cause, loss is undeniable

Loss of humanness.

The Greeks knew it best but the lesson is still for Rousey,

Even the gods weren’t perfect

Perfection isn’t the defining factor of greatness.

Legends are not made of uncarved clay.

What is marble if left alone?

Unnotched, untouched, it’s a block of stone.

Humility & humanness are not the enemies.

Such is hard to see when the only allies inward are hard & weaponized

Glasses are not given, not worn of choice.

Useless as they are in seeing the self

Until the fall.

The gaze.

The blood.

A champion of her own will & heart.

Belief in herself above all else.

More thann prepared

But there wasn’t success.

There was no triumph or glow.

Lights were out.

When you believe to be the sun, darkness is more than all-encompassing.

It’s a nightmare.


But real and endless

Until a new day.

But to the sun, all days are the same

All serve higher purpose, last until death

Does darkness end time and worth?

Absence of light, that is the true meaning of darkness.

Beyond repair, the sun may not shine again if it has lost its fire

But sparks are not ignited only one way

Choosing is power

Situation is unimportant

Choice is all-powerful.

Ronda will heal & fight

But not the same.

Once the sun goes out once, its flames never look the same.

Deeper orange? Less red? Auras of gold?

More choices in repair

But allowing the self to know the truth.

The truth of choice.

That is all the difference.

Success isn’t built on a few steps.

Strength is not the refusal to be broken

It is fighting with new pieces, fortified

& soul intact.