Rescue

Rescue.

She has had the worst the military had to offer.
She has seen the best it had; sent home to Dover.
Rescue her? Hell, Boy- you better understand this is the woman that will save your sorry ass.

She has stood her ground.
She has overcome what others- Cant. Even. Imagine.
You think you can scare her? HA! You can't even cause her to stammer.

You don't get to invade her passion unless invited.
And there has been an invitation extended... to the one she trusts and feels safe with.
And Boy, let me tell ya - that ain't you.

Rescue - if you knew her at all; you would know it isn't a rescue she needs.
The one who knew her- took that risk - when the train stopped and the whistle blew in the steady of the night.
He knew her. He spoke to her in ways you can't even comprehend.

She listened to the evil one coo in her ear like Satan singing the blues.
She listened to the 'good' one tell her again how much she really was a 'good one' as he backed away.
She listened to the one cower in the corner because his nerve must be lodged up in a place he can't cough out.
She listened to the one that wanted her so much he could taste it except he already had his mouth full.

And you come at her with substandard stalking efforts and half-assed feeble lines.
She; whose strength has carried the weight of broken, armored men.
She; who stood fearless in times of devastation and disaster.
She is not wooed by your clever gifts of broken nothingness.

Carry yourself back to where you came.
Where words win over and actions are empty ballet.
Go back to where you think you'll win and to a girl better suited to wear the trophy crown.
For Boy, you are not worthy of this female warrior-ette.

Now stand aside and watch the courage rise as she saves her own heart.... and rescues herself once again.