Dark Poetry Prose Poetry February 16, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

02-16-05 wednesday 9:25pm

choking down another breath. not living for. neither life nor death.

time she does expire. much too rapidly. all those moments fall like rain. striking the ground. and then quickly disappearing into it. there below the surface still. unseen, but felt more than if. i'm damp and dank with every second i've ever lived. this basement life. full of boxes whose contents i can't look at. and dark. down frightening stairways shakey and poorly lit.

there's nothing you want to find and everything that wants you to. down in this basement life. so many things i'd forgotten i'd kept. and even more i'm glad i did.

all moist and soft from the cellar they've been put. all the boxes overflowing. unmarked contents that i'd recongize easily if i could only look.

i can close my eyes and choke down another breath. not to live. only just to prove i can. that if i wanted to it wouldn't be hard. i could do it. but i don't want to climb those stairs again. and i don't want to stay down here in the darkness.

02-16-05 wednesday 9:15pm

guess i'm over it. you know how that goes. the clouds decide they'll move again and finally the sun begins to show.

was never really under it. not in that careful sense. i laid down. bent my head back. but never receieved my thin wafer of bread.

it happened. just like everything does. you twist the cap off the morning and see how it tastes.

guess you're over it. it comes eventually. with all the munitions these live stockpile, you'd think it would've been a bloodier scene.

but no one was ever really under. not a threat for miles. just the wars we wage inside ourselves. and the unfrotunate occasions when those borders collide.