Dark Poetry Prose Poetry February 26, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

02-26-04 7:50pm thursday brick NJ

grinning misery wears me. dresses up in my skin. yellow moving blades of light slice through the darkness. drive them home. red eyes look up at me from down on the street. pausing to watch me breathe. to watch me sigh away another urge to speak. to cry. to go all rapid fire with my grief.

if the phone does so happen to ring i think that is just comfort enough. that to partake of life and human interaction would only serve to awaken the need for more than talk. more than calls. if you can just ring sometimes to let me know that you are still there i think i wouldn't feel quite so alone. but to engage the conversation. to listen. to speak. to actually feel your presense in my life would only make me sad. cause me to want other things. things that i simply cannot have.

02-26-04 thursday 9pm brick NJ

another hour wraps its fingers round my throat. teases the choke. and then lets go. and the night just peers through my window and grins that cheshire gloat.

i could be less selfish. could be moreso. but right now i'm concerned with neither. all that matters is how dark the scope of my world. how deep it goes.

i couldn't tell you exactly why it's you and not someone else. or why exactly letting it ring calms my heart so much better than answering.

i guess it's just that i don't want to try to drink from that oasis to find again the water isn't real. i've been here before. so thirsty. trying to quench it by pretending the sand i'm drinking is water. i've been here before. seen weekly become monthly. seen monthly become hardly at all.

distance sometimes is your only savior. when all your messiahs have misled you. it's not about survival. hell, if i want that. it's not even about getting what i desire. i acknowledge what i can't have. it's just pain avoidance. hurt management. that ringing makes me feel so good, but i'm afraid to answer. to feel again connections that disparage. to ache again for meetings. for affection that can't happen. to be left to dwell upon once more how alone i actually am.

02-26-04 9:45pm brick NJ thursday

an ocean of apathy engulfs me. powder coated souls. anodized hearts. let the rain fall. it has no effect on me. let the floods come. i'd like to drown. if only i could. would've liked to have been a different person, but unfortunately i wasn't.

borderline at best. white sleeves. white as a rainbow unborn. color forgets. forgets itself.

like wind it breathes through your skin. echoes to the very foundation of your being. chilling dances on tiptoe with the membrane of your very reason to live. even if you think that you don't have one, it does exist. even if you refuse to listen, that raison d'etre is still preaching. preaching like a slack jawed redneck minister. even if your'e too afraid to admit tomorrow has already found you, it will still happen. and you'll sigh heavy that you wish it hadn't. it may be true. but not true enough yet to prompt you to change it.

wings in frost on the glass. translucent clauses in life's contract. fine print grows finer yet. and i listen. swallow the silence and think about when it wasn't.

i try to write because speaking is so hard. because this jaw. these lungs. they only invite speculation. easy with the pleasure. and dank with the pain. because holes in me were put there to be plugged up, but i want so much that they shouldn't. holes in this female anatomy make me weaker, but i hate it so much i want to prove it false.

you can fill me. fill me full of yourself. your need to feel something greater than your decisions have left you with. but i can wish no more solace than you have provided. i'm not a saint. not a martyr. i'm just a person. just a gap that you were drawn to like a victim. and i can only imagine how good it must feel to fill that space so decidedly. to keep the dam from rupturing. to push the flood waters back.

i'm just a hole. plug me if you can. or else just let the dam explode. those meant to survive surely will. and those that don't. well, it was only a matter of time.