Dark Poetry Prose Poetry February 28, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

2-28-03 friday 9:30pm brick NJ

it's a purple sky on the egde of birth. the infant tomorrow squirming inside her. kicking at the womb of hope until the water bursts and all the fluid saturates the ground. and the placenta falls out. the mess and blood of pormise soils your hands. the sticky sour flavor of doubt thickens in your throat as depression fills the air. everything around you. everything about you hopeless beyond your worst recollections.

the last night and the first day. ever present life builds its stage to strut upon. but i've no steps left to offer it. i've no songs left to call on. and it pauses there in the middle of the scene. frozen with fear. paralyzed by the idea that every step before this has only led to nothing. and every possible step after will only go further toward that same empty infinity.

it's a song that repeats more than anyone but i can stand. the heart a of heartbeat caught in the blink between my eyes. i hear your voice when the thoughts compound. when the rhymes forget and tired sentences are all that's left to be found. but no words. not even the best can. no words. not all that i can write has an end.

it's a sugar grin licking the surface of a sour kiss. it's an orgasm in a fit of tears. you squeeze on your heart to stop the bleeding, but the wound is just too deep. you feel the monsters screaming through your flesh. loud and envigorating. so close to heaven. so near to hell again.

i've tried before. and i always will. to say the things that loom above us still. i've tried so many times. and i guess i always must. to find the secret place where these two hearts can love.

2-28-03 friday 10:31pm rbick NJ

still just enough time yet to ask myself why and laugh at the question of. still just barely enough song left to listen to the melody unwind. repeating itself in my mind like a dream that won't wake up. like a nightmare wihtout a cusp. just barely enough time left to say that i've been and done. everything that comes after this just remnants of a life i knew before this. everything that succeedes this just residual energy. take another sip and try to pretend that it will be the last one, but there's is no end to come. crease anohter page and try to convince yourself that the chapter has ended. but no such luck. it's never really over. it's always just begun.

if you don't need it. if you don't want it. that's fine. just admit it. just let it be just what it is. the last thing i need are more false friends. i can't presume to know what you meant. but i'm here now and there's nothing left to question. there's just the winter at its best. there's just the cold at its strongest. and i've been left naked again.

words find themselves sometimes before i find them. lost in the swirl of contemplation they are run together. sort them out if you can. or if not, just move on from there as if it had never happened. as if, we always were everything we intended. even if we weren't. hearts can still dream, now and then. a wish is the most real thing they have. now and then, it's the wishes. it's the things we never were that keep the candle alive when the winds are harsh. if it's wrong, so be it. but somethimes it seems it's still right to pretend. to play like we are who we can. just one more time and then. just one more long embrace to show us the end.