His crimson teeth wrapped my grief, he was oozing adrenaline from his eyes and fingernails and he remained fixed like a faulty turret. I could see his heart beating by the pulsating of his veins I could tell the messages from his brain to his extremeties were clear. He ran towards me covering more ground the closer he got.
He threw a haymaker which could also be known as sleep medicine. I could tell the state I was in and my eyes switched to tunnel vision. I could feel my hands switch to funnel vision and in that moment I was certain that curtains would be drawn and one of use would be left on the floor backstage.
My foot slipped forward and my punch calmed his rage. I was punching and moving forward at the same time, my first were rhyming and I was playing a clever tune and he was in love with every punch I could see him swoon.
I was objectively trying to finish but on my terms. I was all deli and his order was all knuckle sandwich. I could feel the damage, I was racking up points and his danger light just went off. I wish I could say it was a flawless victory but I took a tap and for every one I gave ten back. With every clap back I could feel my rage, I was fighting in and out of the cage.
I was looking for the joy in it all.