1st Edit
The eyes didn’t dance like butterflies.
Vacant they showed an empty room,
windows opening onto a deserted island.
Legs; wanting to move,
they lay there with feet pointed at 3:45.
A.M. or P.M he couldn’t tell. The ringing in his ears
came from blood rush. The bell fell silent
halfway through the first and last.
Kidneys screaming from the need to piss
blood. On his back looking up, burned like rope,
surrounded by the world.
He thought he'd fought a good fight, he remembered tagging
the opponents chin, or was that another bout?
He saw a pristine towel as his jaw broke.
It was thrown too late; the towel not the punch.
He never made the eight.
Edited with the help of Heslopian's feedback as well as his grammar.
thanks jack.
original
The eyes didn’t dance like butterflies.
Vacant they showed an empty room
windows opening onto a deserted island.
Legs; wanting to move, could not.
They lay there with feet pointed at 3:45
A.M. or P.M he couldn’t tell. The ringing in his ears
came from blood rush. The bell fell silent
halfway through the first and last.
Kidneys screaming from the need to piss
blood. On his back looking up, burned like rope,
surrounded by the world ‘So this is death’.
He thought he'd fought a good fight, he remembered tagging
the opponents chin, or was that another bout?
He saw a pristine towel as his jaw broke.
It was thrown too late; the towel not the punch.
He never made the eight.
The eyes didn’t dance like butterflies.
Vacant they showed an empty room,
windows opening onto a deserted island.
Legs; wanting to move,
they lay there with feet pointed at 3:45.
A.M. or P.M he couldn’t tell. The ringing in his ears
came from blood rush. The bell fell silent
halfway through the first and last.
Kidneys screaming from the need to piss
blood. On his back looking up, burned like rope,
surrounded by the world.
He thought he'd fought a good fight, he remembered tagging
the opponents chin, or was that another bout?
He saw a pristine towel as his jaw broke.
It was thrown too late; the towel not the punch.
He never made the eight.
Edited with the help of Heslopian's feedback as well as his grammar.
thanks jack.
original
The eyes didn’t dance like butterflies.
Vacant they showed an empty room
windows opening onto a deserted island.
Legs; wanting to move, could not.
They lay there with feet pointed at 3:45
A.M. or P.M he couldn’t tell. The ringing in his ears
came from blood rush. The bell fell silent
halfway through the first and last.
Kidneys screaming from the need to piss
blood. On his back looking up, burned like rope,
surrounded by the world ‘So this is death’.
He thought he'd fought a good fight, he remembered tagging
the opponents chin, or was that another bout?
He saw a pristine towel as his jaw broke.
It was thrown too late; the towel not the punch.
He never made the eight.