Dark Poetry Prose Poetry February 2, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

2-02-03 sunday 5:30pm brick NJ

these are the nights that make all other ones forget that they ever were. the spaces between heartbeats when you can't breath, but that feeling keeps you alive. that feeling that everything i never thought i could find has found me.

life is just this. it's wishing you didn't. knowing that you have. and no matter what you say or do it'll still be the same empty existence. you can be empty alone or you can be empty alone like this. who will even notice.

i don't understand it and i don't think that i ever will. leave your trinkets, but leave me still.

somewhere inside i've always known that what you do isn't what you mean to. that where you are isn't where you keep your heart. i love you for it. everything about you that confounds me. everything you do that i wish you mgiht do differently. i love you for all of it. every missed opportunity. every call you wouldn't answer. i love that you won't. but i wish that you would. it's my disease meeting yours in some manic deperessive symphony.

i don't know why you don't go where you want to be. i don't know why you forfeit the love you say you need. but i can tell you this and know that it is fact. even when i can't talk to you i am wishing that i had. even when it hurts too much to keep waiting i can't stop. even when i'm too miserable to pretend that this is good enough, somewhere i still know that this is just what i want.

love makes the strangest paths through my heart. jagged and haphazard methods of madness. love makes me wait while it tells me i should not. i never want to lose you, but i don't know that i already haven't.

if i lose myself how can i retain the things that i love. if i'm losing me how can i still be the person that you sometimes need. if this is just what we are. all that we can be. it would be enough. it could be enough. it should be. i wish it was. but it's not.