Go

I've got it.    
   
Sobering (w)hor(e)mo(a)nes,
(those raging bitches)
blitz my style, crank the bile.  
I love a man with words he loves me without,
both planets' ambassadors sacked for treason.
Whether a clash of elements,  or just a game
of rock, paper, scissors
the battles suffuse everyday
in a dull shade of jade.
But escape is only vacancy -
unending stasis bettered by nothing.
There's no way to sate nor dissipate this wanderlust.    
Never have been
in one place longer than a little while-    
itchy wings, greedy eyes    
past flights take time to file in my head    
but they do.
    I'm solid.

Shaky as it looks    
I've got it.