Dark Poetry Prose Poetry January 22, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

01-22-05 saturday 10:16pm

it's late. and white. all covered in global warming making us colder despite.

it's rearranging. as we tend to do. when inside doesn't fit. it's tempting to adjust the outside to accomodate.

i can listen to the same song over and over again. and each time it will sound different. because in my head it is.

like every day that comes so much the same. we're the ones obligated to find the changes in. time and life owe us nothing. to them we are indebted.

i've wanted not to have never been born. but that choice long since expired. now imbued with life i flounder on the cusp between longing to live and wishing i would die.

because i have tasted life. how sweet it can be. and how sour. letting go. it makes such deep footprints as it comes near. it's such a strain to fill them in.

i want to be that crazy. that selfish. that wreckless. but unfortunately i haven't been for a very long time.

i've shot at life like a bullseye. but haven't found the center yet. come close on ocassion. but still no prize.

01-22-05 saturday 10:54pm

wouldn't it. shoudln't it have been. diime store trolley hearts on their tracks.

and days. so many days to answer for.

blank pages lurking like vampries. so pale and hungry for your blood.

i listened. but that sound never came again.

i waited. but only the snow fell. no arrivals. no depatures. just the empty gate.

that plane so ready to fly. but take off a lifetime away.

feeling the engines as they would combust. throttling as they will. pushing the ground away from us.

i've never had a reason. i still don't. i sit here arguing wiith the shadows on the walls as they try to differentiate between the windows and the doors.