Dark Poetry Prose Poetry March 3, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

3-03-03 monday 9pm brick NJ

shadow rings don't answer, but they come back to darken your heart when thoughts invade. last minute loves scatter quickly when trust questions them. in that moment where do you find your heart? is it looking toward me or is it stiffening other parts.

i don't doubt that you care in your own unique way. and i don't mind that it isn't always what i'd choose. because i'm not you. and you ought to be who you are. and just let me love you that way. even if it means we can't agree. even if it means that last time really was. i hate to say it but, it seems these lives run now run parallel, but no longer will intersect. i hate to think it but, the touch i was waiting for may never come. the ways you offer it, i just can't accept.

and who were we kidding anyway. even if we both chose to give all our love, it wouldn't let us. even if we both loved as much as we could, circumstance still never would permit such.

3-03-03 monday 10:15pm brick NJ

if i can't write anymore it's because i don't know what else there is to say. all the words. all the intentions quiver quietly on the ground we used to tread. so long since then.

if i can't explain it like i used to. and you're wondering where all those deep thoughts ran off to. it just because they've been put away witha all the other pain i keep safe in my life's vault.

if i can't write anymore it's because all the things i've said lost their purpose when they couldn't touch you. when they met your eyes, but not your heart. if i don't try anymore it's not because i don't want to. it's just that i've come to realize it's futile. some people love to be loved. and others, like me. love to not be.

if i don't send it anymore. those words that once told you just how much you meant. it isn't because it's become untrue. it's just that in all those failed attempt they've lost their substance. what was the embodiment of this something so special that you are to me die and left me with only this grave. it died and left me wit only a eulogy to write that i've yet to pen. it died and left me a ghost as a friend and a gravestone still waiting for it's inscription. but i just don't know what to say.