Too Late
Disclaimer: The privilege of owning the piece of brilliance known as "The Outsiders" goes to S.E. Hinton.
You runrunrun through the hospital
so afraid you won't reach his room in time.
Too late to see him
Too late to stop his death
So you pull out your knife
your hand s h a k i n g
your heart b u r s t i n g
For the first time in so many years
That you are afraid it'll just push through
your chest and leave you a shell
(as if you were anything more already.)
And you see him,
and you know
you're t o o l a t e
Too late to keep him alive.
Too late to do anything but look.
And so you watch the life
d
r
a
i
n
out of him.
Speaking s l o w l y and c a l m l y
even though you only want to shoutandscreamandcry.
But it's been so long (too long)
since you've felt at all.
And it scares you
(although you'd never admit it)
to feel again.
And then you're begging,
a high, pleading voice
that can't possibly be your own,
because Dallas Winston doesn't beg.
Yet you're
a s k i n g
w a n t i n g
n e e d i n g
for him to stay alive.
And your stupidstupidstupid heart
(that just came back to life)
destroys you from the inside out
breaking into ahunderedthousandtinylittleshards
Because you (stupidly, foolishly)
let yourself believe
that maybe it wasn't
t o o l a t e.