𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒚| 𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒚 [𝑶𝒏-𝑮𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈]

Part 38: Too Late

It wasn't this way,
It all began in May.
The day you left me,
It was such a fading sight,
I couldn't even see,
Yet I remember that night
Ever so clearly.
Hands held my throat,
Choking me to death.
I couldn't speak,
I couldn't even breathe.
Their smiles made my eyes bleed,
The rogueness in their eyes,
Made me realise their greed.
Their eyes burnt with a desire to touch me,
While mine burnt with a desire to set free.
But maybe I was too weak,
A tug on my hair made it all disappear,
Made me scream into the nothingness,
The nothingness of your fading figure.
It was already too late,
For another chance,
Another life. 
I wish you had heard me once,
I wish you hadn't let them put me under their trance.
I wish you had been there,
Watching me burn,
Watching me suffer
Under their agonizing touch.
I wish, I had known you better,
Known you sooner.
But maybe it was already-
Too late.

-Ash.

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Who's your favourite poet off-wattpad and on-wattpad? ;)

Off-wattpad, for me, it's John Keats and T.S. Elliot. I love reading their poetries.

How did you feel while reading this poetry? Comment your thoughts! :)