Dark Poetry Prose Poetry January 20, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

01-20-05 thursday 10:20pm

was tired. too many days had happened. cardboard cutouts in my heart would stand there looking like. the real people who once did. grinning and motionless as the darknesss would wash over them.

am tired still. working toward goals unknown. unwanted. sucking on tomorrow's dried up tit.

not hungry. nor full. just pacing myself forf that long lull between thinking i want to try and actually trying to.

thoughts draw their blinds closed and i can feel myself vanish. i look up and the ceiling is white. sharp shards of darkness fracture and split. razorblades of light cut their way through sorrow's skin.

i could turn it all red. but why would i want to. when every color is the same in the end.