What was what

What was I fighting for?
I've forgotten in my haste to battle,
The cause for this pause
Sweet hips t---s and p---y lips.

It was a futile fight,
And there you were fighting for the wrong side,
Tongue to cheek,
Except it was glued to the side of your face,
Maniacal-like.

I reckon they could have drank anything,
And still eaten mushrooms and gone into battle,
Milk or water,
Milk or honey,
But blood and honey estrogen would do the trick for sure...

Like 3 primary colors,
From that pallette could come any other feeling you imagine and
simulate...
F--k kill and make love... I'm always fighting for the privelege.
Always fighting for the chance.

But what do they fight for?
If not blood or honey or sex or sugar or love?