Dark Poetry Prose Poetry March 28, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

03-28-04 sunday 8:56pm

the sun shines through my window any day that it does, but they tell me it's much better out there in it. i just don't remember it being like that.

the sun floods through my window in yellow waves. crashing into the darkness this room holds. contrasting. making shadows where once were none. and defining others where color once bled.

the sun comes through my window every day that it decides to shine, but they say it's different if you can see it from the outside. but i just don't remember it being like that. perhaps it shines on some lives differently. perhaps it's all a matter of how you look at.

charting life by how many times you've heard that song. playlist repeating like an echo of living. answer. change personalities. cybilize your time into neat little indexes. skipping from chapter to chapter as needed. skating over the better paragraphs like a highlighter in a student's hands.

i do see the sun every single day that it chooses to allow. it colors my room for the durations of its shift. it punches the timeclock and waits for its pay. i do see the sun as much as anyone does. it rolls in like freight train all full of life's cargo. they say it's better if you greet it at the station. but there's nothing onboard that i wish to claim.

9:23pm 03-28-04 sunday

just thought it'd be different. that if i wasn't dead then i'd have a reason to live.

it just swam like fishes. salmons against the current. to breed. to be born again long after death.

just one thing too often and it led to others. moderation and i have never gotten along. too boring. too everyday. too everyone. i didn't have to be different, but i always was.

just dice in your thoughts tumbling towards. no one knows. victory or craps. make me rich or make me bankrupt. just don't make me break even, cuz i couldn't live with that.

just pictured it different. that is, if i ever pictured it at all. not sure that i ever did.

but if i had to figure the future i used to figure that i would be dead. or if not that, then that i'd have found a good reason to abandon that concept.

but i don't have any reasons, yet i'm still here. alive as i've ever been. if you can call it that. listening to their voices crack as they hit the windshield on my dash. such a clear glass it is that they don't know it's in their path.

i still have more reasons to die than i do to live. the scales are tipped to one side, but i hesitate, just as anyone with conscience would. there's no reason. there never has been, but i hesitate just as i always have.

03-28-04 sunday 9:51pm

ambiguous. ambivalent. like so many of life's statements.

just contort me like you would playdough. consort with me as we map out those treaties that lives will rely upon.

sedate me. make it that much easier to live. cause it ought to be that easy. just the act of breathing. it ooght to be just like thorazine. asking nothing other than sleep.

ambiguous. what could it mean. just that people are pretending they've decided, but they still can't.

ambivalent. like a thirsty doe approaching a stream. will she risk her life to quench this thrist. tongue laps at while eyes scan. if she had the capacity she'd be wishing that. wishiing that the thrist didn't prevail upon so strong. wishing that the places to drink were not so few and far between. were not so exposed. so easy for the predators to see.

when it's only just that i'm afraid of still being awake after the fact. that there may not be enough to induce the sleep i sorely need it. when loud gets quieter and thoughts intercept. i can only see blurry images. i can remember but it's tainted. the echo lives as it slowly glides back. it knows what i need to hear and it tries to be that.

chasing days that never will. repeating refrains that don't know why. looking for a reason to live other than to die. i get lost in it. and i don't want to find my way back. just think that whatever they feel is pity or need at best. leave them to their own demons. i've plently of my own to possess.