popped

after a loss of great measure, not sure if i can stomach it again..
shortened version of literary ineptitude, once many pages, never duplicated now made into a mish mash of word virus...spread it to the tenth degree...

last night it finally happened
nearly two hours of sweat dripping, slash dancing,  rink skipping, ball busting glory..
we'd barely enough for an equal divide,
but the block checks came strong and solid from my end..

flesh collides sweat flings and after a second of adrenal glad spasms hipcheek meets rink meat, rib cage to slide along with the wrist gaurd on the back down force her out.. get up get up lets go, catch up schrodinger, faster go go go...
sweet stinging on my left leg, rust taste in my mouth hot and heavy we kept on going, till the bout was called and scores met.. count down un duex trois and sip away, taste the cut lip and finger the fresh sign of derby dolldom...fishnet burn... my first.   somewhat sexy in circles of pain, caused by rink floor sticking to skin and slide on .. falling proper like can cause it... but i need new pads all the same
first time sweet and stinging..
i love it so.
it has become more than competition now..
i block. i skate. and if i hold my breath and count to ten i just might make it through the next lap,
i'll take the world with me, i'm not afraid, i'll take them all down if it means not letting the whites through...
bad girls sleep over. bad girls take over. it's all apart of the sisterhood of the bcdg...
   i've found my skates, it's become about inspiration...
spin of eh?