Dark Poetry Prose Poetry March 11, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

12:26pm 03-11-04 thursday brick NJ

i think i understand now. the problem isn't that they didn't love me. it's that i never did.

interchangeable people. that's suddenly how they look to me. write about one or the other. doesn't matter. they're all the same. or maybe it's me.

i think i understand now. the problem isn't that i haven't opted for happiness. it's that it always turns me down.

interchangeable people. distance speculates on just what's wrong with me. interchangeable people. or maybe it's just me.

i think i understand now. the problem isn't that they can't love. it's just me.

s3-11-04 1:30pm thursday

the hours churn in anguished fits of i am alone and i don't like it.

every night reprises that same tired song - i tear. then cry. then wipe away the evidence before going downstairs to retrieve a fresh bottle of forgiveness.

7:42pm 3-11-04 thursday

and i never used to cry at all. not since eight years old. i always just assumed that someday soon i'd be dying, but i'm still alive all these years later even though i don't really want to be.

9:30pm

i never used to cry. not since eight years old. i just used to be angry. but now i am sad. i just used to want to be left alone. but now i don't.

what changed about me, i don't know for sure. but i think it has something to do with letting people in. i would've been so much better off having remained isolated.

or maybe it's age sinking its claws in. biological clocks ringing their alarms inside my head.

i never used to cry. i really didn't. not since that birthday twenty one years ago. but then i decided to give people a chance again and that was a mistake. cuz i'm still alone, only now i hate it.

twenty five was when i decided i had to try to live again. to find friends. and love. and sex. all those things i'd so seldom had in the past. twenty five was when i decided to do that. because i'd never been with a man and i felt that i should have that experience.

well, now i've been with some. not too many, but more than enough. i got the sex. i got the experience. but it seems i lost a lot more than i won. it feels like i made the wrong decision. that it would've been better had i stayed where i was. then i wouldn't be crying. wouldn't be wondering why i'm not wanted. had i just forgone the experience there'd be no reason to cry.

9:57pm 3-11-04 thursday

dismantling my life in stages. popsicle castles coming apart one lick at a time. and i can still see the residue embedded in the grain. of that sugar red taste. that sweet syrup that quickly melted away.

what could you possibly know about me that isn't obvious? what could you possibly offer me that wouldn't eventually leave me with less?

every minute humbles itself. shuffling footsteps toward an end that's unwilling. dancing with the prospects only to find that they're leading me, not me them. only to find that they'd long since found new partners. and it's just their shadow that i've been dancing with.

would that all these disappointments could somehow teach me how to not want them again. to need only myself and my angry version of how a life should be shagrined. would that all the ways they've shown me there are to ache could teach me again how little i need them. how much i hate the world and everyone in it.

but instead, i just wish that much harder still. instead of making me hard again, i've become liquid. instead of teaching me to remember, they've caused me to forget any reasons that i ever had not to cry again.

and i don't know now what i could possibly want anymore. not happiness. not love. not anything worth having. because i've tried my hardest to have each of them, but they just didn't want me at all. because i worshipped and i prayed to them, but they just laughed and cast me out of heaven.

i guess that like before there's nothing left to want again other than death. i guess even though i'd hoped for better there's nothing else left.

10:16pm 3-11-04 thursday

how dark it is even with the tv on. how quiet the darkness even though the amplifier shouts. how cold i feel though it's warm in here. how sour my beverage even though it attempts to be sweet.

clutch your money or clutch your family. what do i care. neither means a thing to me. believe in god. believe in the length of your living. what do i care. neither means anything to me.

carbonated hearts make that delicious pop when you first open them. but if you leave them sit, they just go flat. turn bitter. and no one wants them.

they opened the seal. they watched the bubbles rise. but they never tasted. never took one sip. they just left it to die.

carbonated hearts must be swallowed shortly after they are opened or else their energy fades. the seal was broken. the bubbles rose. but they just listened as the gas escaped. they just left it there to waste unknown. never tasted.

they knocked it over. spilled the contents. and little by little it made a puddle. drip by drip it emptied itself. until finally the container was hollow and a puddle was all that remained.

10:55pm 3-11-04 thursday

i feel cheated. and lied to. and stupid. i feel unwanted. and unloved and used.

i feel i've been left. forgotten. not worth it. i feel like a condom. a small part of the love making process. cummed in then discarded.

i feel i've cheated myself and have been cheated by them. i feel i've lost the ability to trust and for good reason.

i feel like a failure. as a person. as a heart that wishes to be loved. i feel like sex. so close to that feeling, but still so far from it. i feel like sex. poked and prodded for that feeling and then abruptly abandoned.

i feel cheated. lied to. and so fucking stupid. i feel useless and weak and abused.

i feel as my life's been wasted. all my loved berrated. i feel like a vagina. filled for a few moments because it offered pleasure and then left hollow once the deed was done.

i feel alone and descimated. i feel i've been lied to. i feel useless and unloveable.

i feel like a condom. sheath the feelings in a thin layer of latex. pour your pleasure into it. smother it in the fluids of sex. then throw it away and all its contents. throw it away now that it's given you just what you wanted.

11:23pm 3-11-04 thursday

i'm not beautiful to me. not beautiful to you. not anyone. you can say otherwise, but. the evidence speaks for itself. who's here. who isn't. the election's over. somone else has won.

i'm not beautiful. i'm not anything. you can protest or you can agree. but regradless of. they are there. and i am here. they are them. and i am me. and there's so much difference between.

i'm not beautiful. god how i wish that i was. what would life be like then. how then would it be different. worth the effort or still just.