Pumping On The Floor

-Pumping On The Floor-

by Keaton Foster


In my chest
A hole
Has been
Carved out
How
Dare I say
With a spoon
Quite cruel
Oh how did it hurt
Beyond certain hell
Beyond this existence
I screamed for help
But I fear
No one came
All those alive
The ones
Once by my side
Have abandoned me
Leaving me
To such a fate
I’m sure
Without question
That they
Are confident
That I alone got
What was deserved
Now
Pumping on the floor
At my feet
My rigid
Unrelenting heart
Still does it beat
Since my birth
And now my death
To its own drum
Such a darkness
As mine
Is not within
My courageous heart
Such a blackness
Lives within
My deepening soul
Life means nothing
Just as death means less
My soul will remain as is
As it always was
This body
Who I am
Meat and flesh
Just a vessel
Just a method
Of transportation
From one existence
To the very next
Pumping on the floor
Is my heart
Ripped out
By the hand
Of the creator
And thus destroyer
He warned me
Many of times
To be exact
But I continued on
Daring him
Pouring fuel
Onto his flame
Enticing him
In terrible ways
Challenging it all
Not because I should
But because I could
So here it is
Here we are
The effect
Of such a cause
Soon I’ll be dead
Because let’s face it
The body cannot survive
Without the heart
Just as it cannot
Continue on
Without the mind
Pumping on the floor
Each beat
Resounding it may be
Is one closer to the last
A millisecond
Is more of an eternity
Than you would think
A point must be made
I know it well
Such has always been
My very own hell
I poked God above
With the biggest stick
That I could find
I knew eventually
Without question
That it would lead
To exactly this…


Pumping On The Floor
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2015.