A deep breath, at least an attempt
Drawing air into my lungs; painful to say the least
Short shallow breaths relieving the horrible pain

That last kick, missing the block, threw myself off balance
My own **** fault

Deserving of the next kick, left side of my open rib cage
Stupidity is always punished

A sickening crack, an intense pain
Constant reminder to keep my guard up

Fight the urge to *****
Left arm numb from pain
If I stopped, stayed down too long; he would end it

“Told you to watch that kick Johnny Johnny”

Shook myself hard, working up the urge to keep going
Hell, I’d done this many times before

Eyes swollen shut and ringed with dried blood
His nose, broken; the unnatural angle it tilted, granted mine was too.

My left arm hung limp by my side
I swung again, hard right, for the widening cut above his eye
But so did he
Same hard right, sent me back into the dirt
He fell too.

Blur in my left eye, mere pooling blood
One person among the crowd
A girl
My age, dark hair
It was brown or black?
A tank top and jean shorts
Stood watching the fight shaking her head
Her coy smile
“Boys will be boys”

Only to muster a smile back
A toothy stupid grin
My mouth and teeth rather ****** and red


I wanted to just look at her
But time would not allow
Staggering forward again

Wanted this to end
Wanted to wash my face
Fix the pain that was tearing my ribs,
Most importantly
I wanted to know who she was.

Both fists back up
Swung slow, left hook
Left my ribs wide open
Brought his leg around again
Harder than the first
Grunting in pain and barring my teeth
Anger kept me on my feet

Left arm down fast a
Trapping his leg against my side
My right fist onto his knee
A satisfying crack
A blood curdling yell

He sobbed
Gasping for breath
Through tears he put his fists back up

My shoulder then planted hard into his stomach
Slammed into hard concrete below
He grasped my back until his met concrete
Only good fist ready to finish the fight
Last punch down I stopped.
Anything more would have been cruel


“**** John you look like hell!”

“Hey man,” I stopped him grabbing his arm, “who was that girl in the tank top, behind you earlier?”

He started to laugh. “Don’t concern yourself with that my friend, she’s too high class company for a guy like you.”

Born under Artemus
To the mother, Nemesis
Born to fight against
The hounds of hell

Has earned his company
In the temple of villainy
Has earned his place
Among the lore

For the lore be written
To include the villians
For the lore be not a judge
To cast shame on him

His actions have bound
His fate with the hounds
His actions will decide
Which road to chase

Which sends his soul
To a heart once his own
Which sends his mind
Into insanity

His state on the plane,
A strange domain
His state on the dais
A pawn to the fates

Who allow him to rectify
His mistakes in life
Who allow the hounds
To snap their jaws

At the gates of hell
With a familiar swell
At the gates of Hades
With a heart of hatred

With a beautiful prize
Held up with pride
With a beautiful emptiness
Caused by vengeance

The hounds snap their jaws
And click their claws
The hounds move aside
To grant his passage

Into the forever abyss
That is born from hate
Into the forever
His name, Eucledes.

When we were little
They used to call them
Spotted
Orange
Lizards.

I think they were trying not to scare us with
The words
Standards
Of
Learning.

Standardized testing.

Those things that you need Number Two pencils for.

Those things that they prepare you for
Every year
For months.

Those things that if a cell phone goes off
The entire class comes back
During the summer
And retakes it.

Those things that they give you hours and hours
To take,
Out of our normal schedule,
Even though they only take
Forty-five minutes

Those things that don't even count
Towards our grades
Because
"They're really assessing the teachers--
But it's important to do your best."

SOLs.
Those things that people stress over.

Even though your answers
Are only
Tiny gray dots
On a
Scantron sheet.