Dark Poetry Prose Poetry August 2, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

08-02-05 12:59am tuesday

desert blossoms on the verge of night. open eyes deprived of sight. i'm not asking to grant them such. just that someone should. only they won't. since no such person exists except in the minds of those who need them.

the question of morality doesn't falter because. so far from.

turning rainbows their different colors is the responsibility of the sky. no one else. what rain should fall collected by the earth. the sand. the soil.

what you dream at night not mine to judge. frail hitch-posts by which you tether your once wildest. now domesticated hopes.

but what you claim is truth in your waking hours demeans me so. especially when it undermines every truth i've come to accept.

we're not alike in awy way, never have been. and though, this i once was able to accept. i'm too old now to tolertate your prejudice.

what dreams you have. what dreams you might clutch. they might be the same, but i'll never know. because your so called enlightenment still separates us.

don't give me god. hell, i don't need him.

give me soemthing real or just shut the fuck up.

i miss them now, but not as much.

i loved them then, but.

everything changes. especially people. when you let them.

it's not tragedy. it's just life coming undone.

it's not sad. it just is how we are when the sun finally decdies it doesn't shine only for us. how sad. that we should come to find the world doesn't revolve around us.

sad, but not quite without consequence.

the mortar laid. the bricks carefully stakced. assembly just a detour you'd always hoped to avoid. yet there it is askng you to assemble skyscapers out of anthills.

i culd try, but why bothter. when they'll be exterminated in the end.

i don't want love. only just a friend. and even if i found it, how would i be certain. how could i know they were different from the scores of people who've already disapppointed.

i'm old enough. too old i guess. too find what in the mess is worthwhile. to extrapolate from all those equations what makes sense.

i'd rather just.

it's not easy being alone, but it's still better than this.