Dark Poetry Prose Poetry February 5, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

10:46pm 2-05-005 saturday

good night. good bye. or bad. who knows. who cares.

rose petal teats falling on thorny leaves. no one. no one to see the blood.

just the night at my throat. its bony fingers gripping.

and my esophagus begging.

good night. good bye. or so it would appear to have always been.

even before i opened the book the end always would appear. and i wondered should i continue. but i couldn't resist the tragedy. so much loss to fill all those holes in. so much pain to quiet all those waves that tried. too much sand so full of footprints. and i needed to feel something. anything. don't you see.

i needed to feel something. didn't matter what.

all i wanted was the feeling. pain cracking me open again. a yolk to be scrambled.

but i got more than i ever expected. i'm not sure i remember now, but i think. it was good. for a while. it might've been.

all i wanted was to find a new way to die. instead you brought me to life. i loved you and i hated you for it.

all i wanted was the ache. buut i got so much more. and now that it's over i don't know what i can want next.

i don't know if there's anything else left.

10:14pn saturday 2-05-05

don't see why what i do tomorrow should be dependent upon what i did yesterday. but it is. in the unfortunate halls of my discarded relations.

life is a chain reaction. nothing more. from that first moment when the sperm infects the egg. nothign more than a series of events unknowingly leading to the next.

it's strange how all those things that tore me apart then, tonight, they have no effect. it's sad when you realize, no matter how strongly you feel at that moment. it will pass. those tantrums of the heart, they will relent. like everything young and new. it will grow old. tired. disinterested.

there's no such thing as true love. just what people want. and how much from us they can get.

there's no such thing as happiness. just the things we mistake for. and how long we can fool ourselves with.

9:13pm 2-05-05 saturday

i listened to a song i thought i'd never listen to again. singing quietly along as the harmonies took effect.

if i'm alone. now or ever. i suppose i'm the one who's at fault. cut flowers in their vase only last so long in their watery graves.

if you're gone. yesterday, now or tomorrow. that's a choice we made. even if not together. we both agreed to it just the same.

i don't listen for friends anymore. just people. what they want. and how much i can charge them.

pictures hang no more. on the walls nor in my heart. surreal shadows acquiescing to the path i once walked.

sitting now. i will stay here. in this chair. this dried up riverbed. trust. now arid and stagnant.

if we're apart. we must've always been. because together is unchangeable unless.

if i'm alone now. it's not because you're gone. though i felt you there once. you can't have really been.

because if you were you'd still be.

or maybe. this motel of a heart tends to invite far too many vacancies.

02-05-05 saturday 11pm

i forget just why anything ever mattered.

thinking back it doens't make sense. that it should've ever meant anything to me.

cause it doens't mean anything now. and i don't know why.

that's just how it is. living in the shadow of who i've been. digging up graves to see the bones within. laying flowers on strangers' skeletons.

life's been just one long funeral. everything always dying. my life is a coffin. with nothing in it. no one crying over.

never expected.

had hoped, but was prepared for being disappointed.

thinking now about who i tried to be then. that stranger that would slip into my skin. how well she mimicked me. how near she came to being the me i ought to have been.

i should've let her. she was better at being me that i've ever been. i should've let her. she was loved in ways i can't even imagine.

but to all lives truth exacts its revenge. and you find yourself there at the end of the song wondering should i play it again.

what do i need. the repetition or the silence.

what did i ever need. nothing. only to be needed by. wanted.

what did i hear. just words. long since forgotten. what did i feel. only skin. could've been anyone's. i'll never put a face to it, except when you ask me to...

that is, if you ever do again.