Last House on the Left - Argyle Goolsby

Wrong turn.

I learn late in the game

Ask myself why it is that I even came

Call upon my will, skill, feel break free

Or a black glad trash bag is my destiny

In the last house on the left

Pounding on the beams.

Screams no one can hear

Every breath is pain, but equally dear

Running for my life.

Knife stalking the pulse

Heart beating, bleeding, leaving trails on the floor

In the last house on the left

Screaming deep inside this gutted room

A reeking reminder of a molded past

The killer’s shadow waits and fills the crack beneath the door

And pulls on the rusted latch

Lips numb, dumb, brain locate the pain

Broke leg.

Run, stunned, shock of the sprain

Senses slowly fading.

Wading waist high in webs

The smell of blood and brass.

Crass smell on my hands

In the last house on the left