Dark Poetry Prose Poetry March 8, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

8:52pm 03-08-04 monday brick NJ

it just is. like the night on your doorstep. the spit in your kiss.

homemade lies taste so much better than the store bought kind. but you tend to create such a mess making them. it's difficult to decide if it's worth it.

it just is. like the smell of sex. or the desperation in every yes.

it just is. like the spite in love. the restrictions of.

cage them. love them like a captive. blackmailing hearts recite their vows to heaven.

breed them. emotional counterweights. give birth to them. create a reason that they have to stay.

it just is. love not the reason, but the use. it just is. like remembering how alone is. unable to face it again.

it just is. the dirge of breath escaping your lungs. the slap of patronization when all you meant was to show someone. show them what you really felt. it just is. it just happens. honesty is weakness. love is a death sentence.

open bottles love me so much better than anyone else does. such a shame their love is devouring me. cuz i can't let go of it now. can't let go when there's all this need.

it just is. like how lyrics you don't understand put pitchforks in your heart. it just is. like rain tapping windows and gifts you keep, but can't bring yourself to ever wear again.

it just is. that's the problem. it just is. there's no reason. it just happens. like words i write and the people who read them. like the rush of cancer down my throat. and the taste of love when it's grown cold.

it just is. like why we can't. why we did. like open graves waiting on a casket. like wrinkled sheets the morning after. it just is. like hatred. like laughter. there's no explaining it.

03-08-04 monday 9:15pm brick NJ

Who?

No one ever has. don't think that anyone ever will.

Who?

Not myself. not any of them.

Who?

Should I know. should i ask or just forget. just pretend that i don't care. never did.

Who?

Like the call of the lonesome owl at midnight. no one listens. no one answers. it's not even a question. it's just a solitairy serenade she gives in spite of.

Who?

No one i guess.

Who?

Maybe it shouldn't matter at all, but it matters so much.

10:46pm 03-08-04 monday brick NJ

because she makes him happier than i ever could.

there's nothing else to say, except i wish i would.

because his life is good. was good before i ever arrived to interfere.

because he was happy. is happy. and that shouldn't have to change. not now. not ever. and certainly not because of me.

because happiness is relative. and he is happy. because happiness is based upon what you have. not what you think should be.

because he's happy. with her.

and if i was, that's not a good enough reason.

because it happened too late. because there are no easy answers. and alone chases some lives like a cancer. but that's my fate, not his. because he was happy. because he still is.