Dark Poetry Prose Poetry April 24, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

7:07am 04-24-04 saturday

it's much too early to be waking up. after having spent another night alone. it's not that i don't like my solitude. i just miss someone.

if it's this early and it's sunny like it is now. i can walk. and bring home blisters as souveniers. i can put on the headphones and turn the music loud. and as mcuh as i'm there in the world, i'm still safely apart from it somehow.

i feel like a camera. taking pictures from the edge of the stage. i see everything that's happening, but i can only observe. cannot participate.

if it's much too early. as it is now. after having spent another night alone in that bed. it doesn't look so large, but waking up in it, alone again. it's so empty. and barren.

4-24-04 saturday 10:27pm

what once was found, now lost again to the burden of life. swallow your life like medicine. take another dosage. you won't get better, but you'll still be alive.

what once was mine hasn't been for longer than i care to remember. panting hearts wishing they could sweat as the heat bears down. as summer insinuates again.

my mind is clear and uniform. that's just the problem. no easy means of escape. no excuses to leave in my wake.

it's all too easy to obsess over things wanted. chances belayed. only i'm tired of writing about what i lack. or didn't get. or couldn't have. i'm sick of talking to loves that never talk back.

just send me back. back to from where i came. that so many years ago now when sleep was submissive and little else mattered. when i was still young and not yet my own victim. when time's adundance was the threat, not its deepening absense.

take the colors to your breast. and wear them. ragged t-srhit of friendship. it's prefect for warm weather, but leaves you cold when the sun sets.

what shall i write about now that there's nothing left to? verses stumble on like fits of foreign language. they've nowhere to go. and no place to return to. homeless as i am. we wander the night together. but those words don't desire me and neither i them. we each seek something greater, but we both end up here in the end.

count your blessings. counts your cents. there's little leeway, but would that i could submit myself to that risk. there's not much space to breathe, but so much reason to. would that i could give it all up for that. better or worse. only difference is, how glad you are to have it.