Throwing punches

We learned to throw punches together

In my backyard filled with junk and a broken motorcycle

I knew his weak side and he knew the jabs I couldn’t handle

I jumped victorious at winning my first fight all those years ago

Only to land on my back seconds later

Him cheering and booing me

Happy memories them all

And yet

Here we stand today

Ready to throw at each other

Our first punches of anger

Not the first between best buds

But excruciatingly painful all the same

I duck the first punch he throws at me

I hit him in the ribs

Once. Twice. Thrice.

He feigns left and I feign right

Dancing with the last bit of hope

That he calls my bluff

He doesn’t

It’s a blur as my blow connects with his jaw

He’s on his back

His fist closed in a vice

His eyes tightly clenched

He refuses my hand to help him up

I walk out to the front

I see her smiling

And hear her say

I hoped it would be you

Just as I think to myself

Damn I should’ve just let them be.

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