Dark Poetry Prose Poetry January 28, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

1-28-03 tuesday 8:45pm brick NJ

every night that i drink too much it's still not enough. listen to the silence and question everything i am. listen to the silence and question everyone i used to trust.

if i were a super hero they'd all love me no matter what secrets i keep. but i'm neither super nor a hero. and i guess i don't really want to be. though it would be nice to have someone really love me.

it seems i was born much too late to love you. but even still. there's little doubt that had i been there then i would not have interested you.

time confounds us. the way it takes what we have and returns it so much less. we all grow up, but some much too fast. we all get tired, but there are not dreams enough for everyone. time is god if there were one. planting the seeds of life and slowly withering the buds.

if your life is in the past, then that is my loss, but i'm glad to see you had. you don't need nothing anymore because you've had it all. i was just too late. so far behind. my life just trying to begin itself when yours you'd already lived.

that's just like me to look for life in a graveyard. that's just my style to stand on a grave and wonder why that ghost won't dance with me.

it's never easy being me. never easy being anyone. but there are most certainly degrees of. i don't know why. don't even want to. i just want to forget what time has taught me. i just want to be someone else for a while.

1-28-03 10:20pm tuesday brick NJ

i nearly called you then, but the words left when i asked them why. i almost said, but it's so much older now than when i used to send. all contrite and dramatic and waiting for the answer that you didn't have to give. i'm not without fault. i'm not looking for something you can't offer. you ought to know me better. i never was. all i ever wanted was to find in you what you were keeping hidden, but i was wrong. you keep it close. you protect it as you must. i was wrong. i'm sorry.

i can feel life sinking deeper. my only wish that it would leave me. i remember the things we used to try to be. and it's obvious that we could not. but getting that close doesn't make it easy to let go.

maybe i'm just a child who can't comes to terms with how her life has decided to treat her. maybe that's all i am is just a child who hasn't the means to be any better than yesterday has defined.

it sits in the pauses between this breath and the next. like some bloated thought you can't express sucking the life out of everything else you meant to say. you can listen until your senses all go dead. listen like you really mean it. cuz you do, but listening isn't enough. you can listen until they all hang up and never call back. aching ears, aching heart. what's the difference. you listen when you get the chance. but who's listening when you can't. who's listening when you talk.