Rather Dead Than Cool


Sound - Poem by Rather Dead Than Cool

My feet shake, It seems only a scream away.
I dropp to my knees, my fingers ache and burn. My eyes shut vigorously tight. My mouth wide with a scream only the sky wouldn't feel.

My body writhes for its controlled by the sounds of emotion pouring through my blood soaked fingers. My throat feels full and as if im going to throw up my heart.

Too late the thudding of drums explodes it. I pause.

Just a misty cloud of bass, my hands bury into my face. A final roar of a thousand nylon stars screeching makes my lungs collapse.My eyes glance through the sound, to be covered by a thick blackness.


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Poem Submitted: Sunday, April 25, 2010



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