Knock Out Queen Knocked Out
I am used to being misunderstood, believe me. You cannot hardly be misunderstood more than a physically attractive, heterosexual, white female boxer. I say hardly above because I know that You, anyone of us can be taken Wrong. Only, I never gave a shit about Them. Because inside of me is a boxer so pure and real that I am certain if you could smash through my chest right now and tear out my heart while it was still beating, it would punch you right in your face. That thing inside my chest is shaped like a fist, no doubt in my mind.
Once this guy who I cannot help but still think of as the Love-Of-My-Life really wanted me to go down so badly that I did and that was good, I found, because He is this Love-Of-My-Life and that was really good, great. Everything was great with Him, I smile. So just to be clear, it's not like that, right, it's not about my ego ...
I know I am smiling because the ref who is following me around in my new dance here in the middle of this ring head is ducking and weaving up and down, in and out, looking right INTO MY EYES HERE, following my eyes in this comical way really and making a very strange face and if I could laugh, I would laugh. I am looking him in the eyes my mind as clear as a bell and I am reading his lips and he is saying softly - I think softly not sure how I know softly because I can't hear a goddamn thing - "Missy doesn't go down?" With that strange look on his face, "What The Fuck?"
But other than this, other than for Him - I just would not, not even, no way, no how - I would not ever go down! Just to be clear. Because Missy does not Go Down. The others go down and this is just a fact. All the others have gone down. Knocked out not a technical knockout - no KNOCKED THE FUCK RIGHT OUT. Without exception. "Knock out Queen", the others call me instead of Missy. I like it all right because that is what I am: the one who knocks the others down.
Until now. Until right here and now. Because I know I am knocked out this time. I am stumbling, guard hanging out of the side of my mouth, drooling, reeling back and reeling back and already good and properly knocked out by this beautiful thing "what's-her-name" there and suddenly my mind so strangely clear as a bell fuzzes up, like the inside of a window fogging. And my mind is not clear as a bell any longer maybe my mind is whatever the opposite of clear as bell is, I don't know? And this seems right to me somehow because I am knocked out, after all, fair is fair, right is right, only I won't go down because my heart is holding me up more than my legs are holding my up. My heart is not only a fist, fuzzy thought now, giggling on the inside, my heart IS wobbly legs holding me up right here and now even though I have been good and properly knocked out already and I should be prostrate on that mat.
But I still do not go down even as this strange clarity of a bell begins fogging completely up now so that I cannot even see the ref any longer and I think my last thought before actually hitting the mat for the first time is, “help me here, ref. Call this! Hey, Randy, dammit, come on out of your corner there and catch me I'm about to be knocked the fuck out here” and at the end of it just spinning, no shit, look at that will you actually stars! Thinking almost happily, STARS! We'll I'll be damned! …
Trailing off into some little girl self just afraid now who doesn't want to fall but whose fist like a heart cannot help but hold her up even though she is good and properly and rightfully just plain knocked out ...
Down
And
Blank
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