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ART
your eyes slit these wrists and kill me so much better
than i ever did
6:06pm friday 07-16-04
to whom is the sunlight
given. for whom does darkness fall.
the patina of each life hides the
subtle difference.
who? (to whom)
do i write to. listen. reply.
who? (to whom)
do i remember. forget. decide.
to whom do
the days belong. to whom do the nights speak.
who?
myself?
i ?
me?
POETRY
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sometimes
i think it would be nice to be fragile. then maybe once in a while someone would
be gentle
i feel so lost, especially when the sun shines, that
it accentuates how dark, how dark is my life.