Dark Poetry Prose Poetry January 2, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

01-02-04 friday 8:50pm brick NJ

why here. why us when it could be you. isn't that what every moment said when you paused to gather your thoughts. aren't all these nights just graves wearing life as a disguise. wasn't every moment that we spent in love just some withered childhood sketch of what we thought it might look like. how we once imagined it would appear if the monster could come to life.

sucking on a memory like a burning cigarette. killing it as you try to extract every ounce of cancer from it. hoping that soon you'll have enough to make this disease of living strong enough to kill itself. hoping that these tumors of feeling will soon devour the very heart that has bred them.

why now. why ever. why speak when the words listen so much better. since every night looks just like this. isn't there only a need for just one of them. just one and then no more. charm the silence like a cobra in a basket. hoping that soon it will bite and its venom will take effect.