Dark Poetry Prose Poetry April 5, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

9:30pm 04-05-04 monday

open wounds to the smile. laughing at them so proud. liquid red grins. plasma eyes. glaring at them in their condescending fashion. don't take me home because we'll be driving forever just to find it. take me anywhere else. just don't ask me where i want to go.

itchy lives. covered rashes. chaffed by time. just don't scratch at, though the urge is so great. let the skin grow back before you pick it all away.

humbled expectations crawl back to the closets you normally keep them. love hangs in your head like a gallery of photographs taken. developed. framed. displayed, frozen images. black and white cataract memories of motion caged. never to move again.

i surrendered a long time ago. to the conditions that life imposed. i'm neither a rebel nor a champion. i'm a captive. just another slave in life's prison camp. like we all are. only hardly anyone notices.

closed fist to the moon. punching the wind in futile gestures of changing moods. kiss me once. innocent like a child. and i'll not analyze. not question. just let it slip silently between the pages. a hidden paragraph unnamed. it will ask nothing, yet it will give all that it can. from behind the barrier of staunch friendships it will delete what happened before it. one word at a time. clearing the pages for what you next choose to design.

there are so few nights now when i can lay back in my hollow and have no need to write. giddy spells come and go like the weather changing. but there's an underlying rhythm. the skin may smile, but the skeleton still cries.

drink me. treat me like a bottle. a receptable full of whatever feels good to you. drink me. drain all i hide. and then fill me up with what you are. or else just drink me, because i'd rather be empty if i can't have you inside.

9:57pm 04-05-04 monday

it goes quickly from one document to the next. where the first one stops the second begins. hardly pausing to consider what it's said. i feel so much right now. more than ever. a balloon about to pop. either let me float up to the heavens or else release these contents.

i feel so much lately. the words can hardly keep up. one file is saved and then the next is started. i had put it aside, but now again it's come to the forefront. suddenly the background has become dominant. i had put you in the table of contents, but turned to another chapter. now that new chapter is all about. again you infiltrate my heart.

i knew when i agreed that it'd kick up some old dust. i figured there'd be residuals, but i didn't expect they'd be so prominent.

my heartbeats tug like the tide against my mind. invading and receding in a slow dance of contingency. i know not what's appropriate to say. and what thoughts i should be keeping. on the one hand i feel lust. guilty and selfish. on the other i feel love laden with the weight of friendship. telling me to stop. to write, but not to reveal. on the one hand i seek satisfaction regardless. on the other i wish not to tempt. only to sit quietly being a good friend.

time will answer me soon enough. i need not ask. your actions will testify. i sit here now, thinking you seemed to have all the best of intetions and i ought not impede that progress. while one half of me agrees and the other half just wants.

they tell me i write well. that my words are powerful. i know that i write well. i'm not conceited, but have read enough. they tell me i write well and i wonder why i've been given this talent. it seems wasted. i may write well, but it seems a shame that it should be spent on these trivial temptations. i may write better than most and that's even more disheartening. that i should write this well, only to have it go wasted on weakness of the flesh and loves that died while stilll infants.

they tell me i write well, that my words wield some kind of power. i'm rather objective about myself. i know what i do well. but i don't write to write well. i write because i cannot speak. so many things to say beseech. i write because i feel so much lately. more than i ever can recall. and reasons rooted in imbalances. rapid fire moods. because even short nights are long. because every morning wakes me up again. dreams diminish and these words are what's left.

04-05-04 monday 11:19pm

god, i'm falling. so far. so fast. comet tail streaking the heavens. teeth twisting bottle caps. damn, i see myself falling. so deep. so quick. funny thing is, i just don't care. three became four. and now four's becoming more. and i just give. submit to the fact. i thought to myself, god, this is bad. but then i did it again and again. and the mornings never questioned what the nights had been. maybe they should have, but they were a little afraid to make such a stance.

god, i'm sinking. so low. so rapid. and i see it happening, but funny thing is, i just don't care. one used to do. and two was a lot. but then three turned to four and yet more. and morning never questions. beacuase all day long i get the job done. it's only when the sun sets that i lose myself in it. it's only just a symptom of the darkness. or at least that's what i'd like to believe. though i know it's much more than that.

i've just spent so much time contemplating circumstances out of my grasp. spent so much time loving that which i could never have. everything becomes a habit. everything does if you allow it. and you just get so used to the shadows that you can't imagine having to face the light. having to explain to it why you kicked it in the teeth so many times.

i'm falling. i'm watching myself descend. seeking that bottom. wondering how far its depth. i'm falling. always have been. but never quite like this. i've always had my habits. my obesessions, but over the years they've grown faster than i have. all these years they've been growing while i've been stunted.

won't say it again. won't tender those questions that hold more wealth than. in truth i know when it ended. it's just takes so long to reach that center after its touched the edge. i don't really wnat to ask anything of you ever again. but it's a long long journey from the mind to the heart. it'll get there eventually if you're pateint.

it's just so hard not to write about it. and so hard to refrain from. like breathing under water. the bubbles rise. the oxygen escapes. trapped down there your lungs almost believe they're still breathing. late at night when you're still typing, letters get lost from the words they need. late at night when the songs are still playing a person can't help what they feel. but i won't say it again. i've already said it too much. leave you to your life. all the wrongs i've written, i'll keep them close when you're far. all the wrong thoughts, i'll cover their mouths and let you talk.

not tonight. not ever. just the jagged edge too much time will seek. not tonight. not ever again. or so it seems. so i hold my breath. don't speak. not ever again. i never said it but. that was enough. you never said it either. perhaps there was a reason.