Dark Poetry Prose Poetry February 2, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

02-02-05 9pm wednesday

what words. what words have i? none really at all. more, i am had by.

what dreams seduce me to fall alseep. when hyperactive eyelids have other plans. only those in which i'm not myself. or watching the world drive by from the shoulder of the road.

whose lips have i stolen kisses from. skulking like a burglar under thier skin. not just on the surface. but barely below it.

living always only a heartbeat away. and time rabid with days yet to come.

there's pleasure to be extracted from so many sources of pain. you can fool yourself when needed. pretend it's happiness.

it gets so that you can't tell the difference between. except to reach for and feel the tears on your face.

9:55pm 02-02-05 wednesday

it's imperative. that when it's over there's still something left. that it meant.

can let it die. bury it. just have to know there was some reason it lived. and it was worth losing.

styrofoam lives. they pollute themselves with all that they try to hold.

there's no reason to cry. and yet so many excuses for. like how you tell yourself you knew the end, but you just had to sit and read every page just to be sure.

there's punctuation in every kiss and every pause. it hints at the outcome. but we tend to only see the words, not what thye're trying to tell us.

can't say that i've been wronged. only foolish. can't say that i've been righted. only misled. what you see when you open your eyes is not what's there. it's only what you hoped was. give it time.

all the people i remember, they seem most apt to forget. maybe bridges burn. and photographs fade. but memories they can only collect. time will try to blur them. but they will always be a part of. whether or not you can still see it.