Dark Poetry Prose Poetry April 21, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

9:37pm 04-21-05 thursday

somebody said, hey what about me. but the stars were too busy looking at the moon. and the moon was occupied with the moving of the seas.

somebody looked in my direction. but i just turned my head. pretended i didn't notice. because it'd be too dangerous to admit that i did.

the night closed fast. like a rat infested restaurant. didn't matter all the people who'd eaten there and enjoyed it. what they didn't know didn't hurt them, but it might still hurt us.

as long as it goes on, it can still catch you off guard when it decides to stop. depending on people to fill the holes in your life isn't any way to live. people have so many holes of their own that they tend to fall in.

04-21-05 thursday 10pm

incumbent feelings vie
for a second term,
but i'm still undecided.

old songs are new again,
same voice,
different pace.

and i don't know
whether i'm ready
to listen.

you're waking up
from what you once
thought was your life;

discovering reality
is not so generous
with its margins.

you'll have to find
them on your own.
every day and for
the rest of your life.

it never mattered
at all, it didn't.
but then alone was
all i was left with.

and though we're
quite familiar,
i know we're just
lovers, not friends.

i'm not crippled.
i can walk. and run.
i just need some time
to locate my equilibrium.

there's nothing to this living
other than resistance.

it's being human
that i can't stand.
pimple of emotion
on the face of.

i don't remember
why i ever wanted to
love anything, or anyone.

not myself.
certainly not them.

every feeling suffocates
itself with its own need for,
and then they're lost.
like i once was.

and though i miss them
since they're gone,
i know they were
never really there.

04-21-05 thursay 10:30pm

listening. cold confidante. sharp knitting needle. it perls through the cables of my skin. and i wonder what will be the next stitch.

i'm not aware of any reason to care anymore for the outcome. frivilous escapades of the heart. that only result in disappointment.

i don't forget you, but i want to. like the howl of a feral alley cats our conversations echo through. but they couldn't have been real. because here now i am, without any proof.

there is nothing left to hurt in me. only dead ends that thwart anxious vehicles.

there is nohting in me left to kill. only carcasses remain. hollowed out pelts.

i once was strong, but then desire made me weak. i once saw in you opportunity. now your selfishness is all i see.

give me just one feather so that i might fly away with it. because i've spent so much time on the ground. learning to live with the limitations life enforces.

i've lived that way so long.

but now i'm free again. they've all gone. and it's time i left the ground behind. i've waited down here for them, but they never came. now i'm ready to shed this heavy skin. ready to imagine that i can fly again.

because there's nothing else left to hope.

when the world is ending. what else is there to do except imagine that you can save it.

we're only people. how much else can we be.

we're only people. full of our people needs. and wehn life comes calling. all we have is the fluids people are able to bleed.

there are bandages. they always come loose. there are sutures. but not in the places you wanted them to be.

staying awake as long as i do, i tend to remember the people who've forgotten me.

it's not something i didnt't expect. it's just something i wasn't prepared to grieve.

i could say good bye to anyone of them. but not without more than my fair share of regret.