Dark Poetry Prose Poetry March 19, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

8:46pm 3-19-04 friday

it feels like winter just began, but it's already ending. like nothing happened at all during. i remember, but it's unreal.

it feels like time isn't happening. that someone has paused it. and that one brief frame stalled on the screen is all that there is.

the music moves forward belying my theory. the hours rotate with meticulous precision. the calendar scurries onward, but still something is frozen.

did anything ever happen? or was it just the changing of the weather that made me think it did. did people live or were they only resisting the fact that they're dead.

is it life we clutch or is it holding us. who knows. who really cares besides me. is it us or is it love that's the victim when all is said and done. who knows. no one. who cares. only i sit alone massaging these questions.

will they submit to my attentions. i doubt it. since they never have. will they take what i give. of course. who wouldn't.

spoonfed solitude. like a baby in a highchair. regurgitated sadness pours down my throat. as from mother to baby bird. hunger never cares how it's fed. it desires only to be full again.

so goodbye to you. goodbye to everything we had been. you can stay or you can go, but it's still goodbye nevertheless.

don't you see it? can't you see how everything has left us. and we're just trying to send smoke signals through mountains ranges.

just as time seems defeated so does everything else. just as it all seems paused, can't stop. can't play. just frozen. stalled on one insignifant frame.

and as the end calls to me i can hear her, but it's misunderstood. the end calls from a distance. i hear her sounds, but not her music.

it's not right. you beat the eggs. you scrambled them. you started the omelet, but never finished it.

it's not just the winter that never began. it's everything. it's not just now that's paused. it's always been.

9:11pm 3-19-04 friday

i can't hate the draem just because it stops. because it's the dream that tried to be everything i want. even if it failed.

i can't ask them when i know that answers they don't have. because i have always questioned. but that's my bad.

i can't embrace the trust just because it's lonely. because i am too.

maybe if it were warmer. perhaps if the days lasted longer, then i wouldn't be caught in this phase. life mimicking itself. mirrors torn in two. any number of circumstances could have made everything different. but this is it.

mockingbird hearts sing the songs of other loves. because they know not their own. because it's easier to memorizie others than to create new one.

thirty more days won't suffice to change anything. and a new cd won't sound that different when your ears have left your head and wandered off to find something more substantial. because it all feels so empty. it all echos like a canyon in the desert. void of life. but haunted by the wind.

i don't need to write. i just do. i don't need an excuse. i do what i want to.

maybe the world has stopped as i suspect. or maybe it's just taken me off of the ride and gone on spinning without. maybe time isn't paused at all, just telling me that it is. because it doesn't want me anymore. because it never really did.

9:26pm 3-19-04 friday

how much to say. nothing really. a storm cloud thundering. unable to rain. a slit of lightning through the sky pretends to make a path. but then vanishes again as quickly as it came.

how much to try until. enough i think. i'm learning. i am. realizing how losing happens. how loneliness amends the other sections of life. forces you to forrget. because it has to. it's not a choice. it's a consequence.

orange nights suspect the days that spawned them. melting like wax into the fabric of existence. one drop at a time they color everything around them. burning flames decide which shoulder will shrug next. candles melt. like fading portraits. like yesterdays i can't remember. and the life i always meant to live, but didn't.

no cause to call on someday. no reason anymore to worrship it. put me on trial. i'll plead guilty and hope for the death senetence. since it should've killed me long ago, but it didn't. since it never happened, was just a still frame feigning movement. and all the while i was watching, so much i wanted it to move. i thought i saw it do just that. but then life asked me to prrove and i could find no evidence. it's all suspect. it's all just lies i fucked. and they cummed in me. breeding new lies for me to brith. but i'm tired of the labor. those children are yours not mine. i will mother them no more.