Octagon

Just looking for shapes in amongst your work...

I can see the octagon/ heart shape, or at least I can as I read your poem I could feel the weight of memories, both visual and mental. The more one dwells in them the heavier they feel, becoming a burden pulling you further down. Finally, the past wins and overwhelms the hear and now.

I liked this. :)

The title's really clever, and this being a shape poem, using an octagon (the mma ring) to talk about your fight. I know I got it wrong the first time around, thinking it was meant to be a stop sign (I still don't know why or how I convinced myself to think that lol).

That said, maybe the verses weren't supposed to directly correlate with fighting, or maybe it was, I still pictured a mma fight:

'stole away my/steps' -> i had imagery of fighters moving closer to one another, and the other fighter with their back against the cage

'this hesitating soul' -> imagery of a fighter knowing their out of their element but still fighting on

'it’s the time that gets lost between every
nostalgic breath I take.'

imagery of fighters taking a break after each round struggling for breath,

and obviously the ending.

it may have been intended or not, but just wanted to point that out. this is a really layered write :)