Dark Poetry Prose Poetry January 4, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

1-04-05 tuesday 10pm

nothing left to say. silence be my bride.

words trickle form this leaky faucet. i am broken. but scheduled for repair.

every night comes like a thunderstorm. loud and unexpected. full of so much rage and wetness.

and time simply absorbs i all.

filling me up with.

though i know not why.

playing tether ball with your life. round the pole it spins.

dancing like it's free, but always attached to something it is.

i'm not a child, but that's what i fele like.

weaker than i've ever been.

it's only tomorrow attempting to be all that's it's promsied.

but it won't succeed.

it never has.