Dark Poetry Prose Poetry April 22, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

hopeless as the last leaf in autumn when all the rest have already fallen

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your eyes slit these wrists and kill me so much better than i ever did

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knowing life is a scab, a crusty, bloody seal of a wound. and wanting so much to pick at.


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04-22-04 7:30am thursday

i wear the same shirt for days,
it doesn't get dirty,
there's no life to stink it up,
like living in a bubble,
but not as obvious;

i get your messages
from the other side of the tunnel.
love calling collect;
and i feel compelled to accept
the charges, no matter what.

4-22-04 thursday 10pm

thinking of what to write. that i ought to. but still looking for a something to inspire.

it's interesting how much more intriguing a rhyme becomes when it needs the reader or even just wants them.

i still read it every now and then. like a recurring dream i can make happen. romance. it's just a concept afterall. another shallow construct of man. some poison biproduct from the refinement of love.

i find myself wondering often, what you take away with you after you've read. what ideas it may or may not put into your head. i wonder am i becoming more of a person or that much less. do the poets bleed the blood. or does the blood bleed them.

i wonder what it could be meaning. what it does. something. nothing. a little bit of each. they're just feeelings. very sad feelings that for whatever reason this mind is compelled to transcribe.

and then i think of how i can sit here most every night and distill the most sour liquors from this life. how they ferment all day long and then the darkness does pour them into tall glasses and begs me to drink.

and how for all that sorrow. for so much as it can blot out all other aspects, it really doesn't take that much to make me forget it. and i know it's just another escape. just another high. but if it works, why shouldn't i take it. take what pleasure i can feel whenever i can. is it wrong. is it wrong to want to feel good when so much makes you feel bad? is their a price on happiness. a lifespan? can it be appraised? can it be caategorized?

i may not know much, but i do know this. no matter who you are, it's always a temporary high. it's permanent for no one. that is why we must take it. take it as it comes. never think about how long it might last. just feel it when we can.


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sometimes i think it would be nice to be fragile. then maybe once in a while someone would be gentle

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i feel so lost, especially when the sun shines, that it accentuates how dark, how dark is my life.