The Fight

You clench your fists as beads of sweat trickle around your face.
You have never felt this kind of high before.
Your pulse is overwhelming, your thoughts are a haze.
The tension and relaxation is comfortable.
Your eyes are anxious to see haunting red blood spill from his broken lip.
Your voice keeps rambling nasty comments.
You float in the air knowing, feeling that you have a chance to be a champion.
There's a demon in your eyes that has paid to see the first blow.
You swing.
Everything that has ever made you hurt, all the pain, every emotion is at the end of your fist.
It connects with something to release it all on, his face.
Your enemy has just committed you the biggest favor ever pleaded.
Blood is flowing all around.
Yours, boiling.
You don't ever want this game to end.
He swings and hits nothing but the cold air.
You can't help but let out a sly laugh.
The rage is so intense, it makes it more of a thrill.
Nothing has ever made you feel so good about anything as you crack him again.
Releasing your feelings once more.
The blood is flowing thicker than you imagined.
You are soaked.
Drenched.
He staggers and a weak fist in your direction.
Missed once more.
You have to release one last time.
Your fist has never had such an honest target.
Sending him to the ground in all his weakened glory.
You are free.