deepundergroundpoetry.com
Late
Music blastin’
Head restin’
Foot thumpin’
Fingers tappin’
Eyes closed
Blood drippin’
Cuts stingin’
Thoughts racin’
Blade in hand
Poundin’ of fists on door
Stop? Hell no
Slicing, dragging, pulling, pushing, lay down
Pretty designs across these arms
Criss cross apple sauce lay my back
Needles rip down my chest
Flames lickin’ at the blood
Smoke choking my lunges
Vision gone
Hammer to the door
Breaking it down
Their to late
I’m gone with ashes
Head restin’
Foot thumpin’
Fingers tappin’
Eyes closed
Blood drippin’
Cuts stingin’
Thoughts racin’
Blade in hand
Poundin’ of fists on door
Stop? Hell no
Slicing, dragging, pulling, pushing, lay down
Pretty designs across these arms
Criss cross apple sauce lay my back
Needles rip down my chest
Flames lickin’ at the blood
Smoke choking my lunges
Vision gone
Hammer to the door
Breaking it down
Their to late
I’m gone with ashes
Published 24th Jan 2012
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25th Jan 2012 5:12am
Your word choice is so creative. I love the in' endings. I love the tone shift at the line "stop? hell no" and I love the "criss cross apple sauce" colloquialism. My only question is whether you mean "they're too late" in the second to last line?
25th Jan 2012 4:13pm
No, I mean 'Their to Late' because it was their choice to be late, its their fault, they own their mistake of not being able to stop it, i wrote this when i was into drugs and only one person cared but they stopped and when they wanted to care again, their to late
28th Jan 2012 10:01pm
