Dark Poetry Prose Poetry May 30, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

hopeless as the last leaf in autumn when all the rest have already fallen

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your eyes slit these wrists and kill me so much better than i ever did

dark art angryangel
knowing life is a scab, a crusty, bloody seal of a wound. and wanting so much to pick at.


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5-30-04 sunday 8:45pm

why must it hurt so much? everything does. life. death. hate. love. friends. sex.

poke a hole. lick a throat. fall in. fall down. know.

why must everything hurt so much? it hurts to live. it hurts to die. it hurts falling in love. hurts becoming friends.

it hurts to wake up. tangled in those blankets. sun in my eyes. it hurts knowing there's yet another day to live. or at least, pretend i am alive.

why must it hurt so much? maiking memories. remembering them. everything does. falling in love. letting it end.

it hurts to listen. hurts to speak. hurts to hold my tongue. hurts being me.

why must everything hurt so much? when does it stop? maybe never. this could be forever. this could be hell. since i've already been kicked out of heaven.

05-30-04 9pm sunday

i glanced outside. across the way. on the grass between the buildings. bright sunshine and sunday happenings. saw a small boy holding a bigger one by the hand. he seemed to be giving him counsel on some childhood issue. and i thought how strange. i've never seen such a thing before.

it's not uncommon to see little girls holding hands. but these were two little boys. and i had never seen that.

the smaller one in shorts. the bigger one in pants. he led him out into the open. he led him by the hand. kind, but insistent he urged him out onto the grass.

i couldn't be sure what had transpired. or why. but it was a curious site. that bigger boy so frustrated. so irritated at the concept of going out into the open. and the smaller one so gentle and supportive as he sweetly led him forward. to be children once more. to play again.

05-30-04 sunday 12:15p,

we lust for freedom,
but long to be captured;
kill for power,
but live for pleasure;
and die for love.

5-30-04 sunday 9:05pm

where are you when so much time to myself makes me reckless and restless. when the words won't quit and my fingers are tired. and i'm wishing that i could pause for a moment. have soemthing else to appease my passions.

where is anyone. where have they ever been. no place that i know of. not the darknesss that i've been in.

lately time moves so quickly. and i don't understand it. cuz under the circumstances i would expect it to move slowly. but i guess i am different. always have been. it's times of happiness that every hour feels like years. that space between one weekend and the next infinite when there's someone that you miss.

but when sadness unfold its musty blanket time speeds up. months expire in minutes. and i go back and read the days trying to remember what was. even still, even with the triggers. it seems all a dream. that i've been sleeping since.

nothing seems real. not one single solitairy breath. all the months seemed to expire in only minutes. i don't feel like i've been alive at all. not since.

9:22pm 5-30-04 sunday

such unusual ideas caught in dead eyes.

hope bereft. faith unkind.

polaroid friends. instant photographs lacking dimension.

born so bloody. so small. so weak. incubated infancy.

i survived. but then i never really did. just kept on breathing without any reason.

and then they all question why. why such unsual eyes caught in dead eyes.

they push me like piano keys. wanting me to sing. but i just avert my gaze. so that they won't see...

those such unsual ideas caught in dead eyes

sad art

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05-30-04 9:45pm sunday

drink me now. a fresh glass of wine. to ease your pulse. to calm your mind.

drink me now. a sweet glass of wine.

that love does ferment in the same way. grows more intoxicating day by day.

drink me now. take a sip. let me drown you in who i am.

drink me now or else never drink again.

you are thirst. i am the quench.

05-30-04 10:30pm

i'm ugly. ugly as the sins i've been known to commit. and the ghostly walls that surround my malcontent.

i'm ugly. ugly like a forbidden kiss. that keeps wanting so long after. so long after it's no longer wanted.

seams unfurling. hems broken. knotted shoe laces that wonn't let you tie them. constant is the threat of stumbling. falling down again.

i'm ugly. like life is. since i was born and so did live. hot cells did divide into something larger. but no more impressive.

paperdolls made their cuts as scissors lent. creating shapes from nothing. making wounds that won't bleed, but.

i'm so ugly. so drunk. so inclinded to fall in love only if i know it's hopeless. like grieving songs that repeat. like a wounded star that falls. and is wished agasinst.

i'm ugly. ugly as the words i take to bed when. foul harbingers of a future of which i am afraid. angry letters to the editor of fate.

i'm ugly. uglier now since. i'm ugly. uglier than i've ever been. because love tends to always remember, though all else forgets.

ugly as the autumn that becomes winter. cold winds that take life from the weakest. ugly. awlays have been. but uglier still now. because i have succeeded in making love the victim. because tomorrow is never different. but yesterday could've been.

5-30-04 sunday 11pm

it was stale bread. peanut butter dreams that stuck to the roof of your memory. stale bread we toasted. since otherwise it wouldn've had to have been thrown away. peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. since we were so hungry. didn't matter how it was fed.

did i ever tell you i'm broken. that i've always been. but i think moreso now since.

did i ever ask. becuase i don't think that i ever did. but that doesn't mean i never wanted.

it all feels just like a song now. lost on the mercy of the wind. hoping foolishly that flight will deliver what it's promised.

it's just night now. breathing darkness. black drums with frail skins. praying they'll hold out. hoping they still know the lyrics.

it was a video i saw. was overcome by. hungry hearts. hungrier flesh. consumed with. but i felt it true. you must know i did. just that pain isn't the symptom, but rather a particpant.

i loved it. you must know that i did. loved it like life ought to be. always knowing it would be rejected.

it shouldv've mattered, but it never did. i should've long since accepted, but i'm still working on it.

stale bread. empty sandwiches. they were taken. but never had.

not tomorrow. not ever again. limp meat. cold sandwiches. all at once i was both lost and found again. so much a star in the drakness. so fallen. wished upon but never answered. dreamt then woken. leave me by myself to die again.


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