Dark Poetry Prose Poetry January 30, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

01-30-05 sunday 9:26pm

i don't go to sleep anymore. just close my eyes. pretend. and i don't really wake up. just open them. don't look. just stare. as the colors of the world all go grey again.

just snowflakes. being shovelled. melted. every day happens like a blizzard. and we dig ourselves out of it. or at least we try.

so cold and lonely inside those frozen chambers which insist. as every minute turns the world whiter. more isolated. the lonely accumulates so rapid.

and then you don't know why or how it ever felt different than it does now. you feel just like a shovel left out in the snow. it melts and you fall over. no one notices. or cares to know.

you feel just like a scarecrow out in a vast crop field. so much nourishment all around you and yet you repel them. no matter how much they need it.

i don't have any memories i can trust are real. just polaroids in my heart lacking dimension.

i don't have any friends i know for certain were genuine. just people i thought i might have be able to love. but i repelled them.

01-30-05 sunday 10:35pm

paint me no portraits. wet paint in your words. darkening as it does while drying. becoming permanent.

i always suspected i was to blame for myself. now it's been proven.

no dramatic embargoes to seize my departure from.

just the silence. as so it moans.

pale quarters drawn of darkened meat.

life evaporates as you boil upon your flame heated by the need to taste.

then it solidifies. rains back down again. in convalescing gasses of the atomsphere's retiscence.

there's no need. only wonder at. a broken wing awed by the flight.

there are no questions. only the answers that have been decompiled.

just marmalade on softened bread slipping through the holes in it. tight as it squeezes itself. it can't contain those juices.

and i could ask myself. but i decline. because i've always known the answer.

but until now, i never really knew which question it went with.

01-30-.05 sunday 0:50pm

i take a last breath as the night escapes my chest. the world deflates and i am inclined to join it.

with so many ways to deprive yourself. and hate the person that you're in. it's no wonder that you make them hate you too. stuffing them so full of every reason that they should.

turning every cow bell into a muse. vigilant you guard those footprints you made in the sand. when you know it's time to let the water have.

i guess it's easy to complain. to act like a child and rhyme those tears into something much less fragile.

but it so happens that i know the damage i do. and the conseqeunces. when no one's looking i kneel down before them. and worship the only god a poet can have.

and i wonder what i could've done different. who else i might've been. but it always come back to the fact that i am who i am. i can't change that. or anything that's happened since.

i can't convince that i'm worth. can't show them what it meant. just words not spoken. losts to the fear that. i can't make it better. wno't make it worse. there'll time enough for regret after the hurt.