Dark Poetry Prose Poetry April 25, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

4-25-03 friday 9pm brick NJ

a grey yahoo shirt. long sleeved like the body inside. a yahoo shirt grey and easy. just like the flesh it hides.

a sudden exchange of more emotion that i thought i coud trade for the dollars i so covet sometimes. a sudden thought to send. and there it arrived at your doorstep. somewhat less than perfect. trite and overused attempt at reconnecting again.

had you loved it, i wouldn't have cared about anything else. but it's obvious that design has become passe'. it's obvious words, flowers, flesh, none of them have the ability to penetrate.

it isn't that i can't accept. it's just that it doesn't feel like i ougth to when i still know all is not dead. it isn't that i don't respect your decisions. it's just that i still feel this something you want to, but won't let me have.

in all my drama. my worship of the rhyme and the metaphor. i go too far sometimes. i lose the purpose in the pursuit of a more beautiful verse. the poet isn't always the broken one. sometimes the poet is just the cloak that covers a frightened heart. the poet isn't always the suffering soul. sometimes it's just the turniquet on much deeper wounds.

the songs that befriend now, so different from just a few days before. the songs so soft and lingereing on emotions only estrogen can fathom. i've changed so much and yet it seems i'm the only one who knows it. i've come so far, but stiill no further from the start.

the expense never meant a thing until the expense infringed on the assets of my heart. my wallet could go dry sending you almost reasons that we should be. even knowing they can't really. that doesn't matter at all. it's the things that i pay for with parts of my life other than money. it's the things i try to buy from you that have no monetary value. the things that i feel there when you're beside. so close i wnat to grab them and never let go. but i know, you'd prefer i didn't. i know they're yours to keep alone. and if you choose it that way. as much of myself i'm willing to pay, they can never be bought. they can never be ours no matter how much i'm willing to pay. and even if it's long since passed the time i should've gotten over it. i know it is. but i haven't. i can't.

there are those that can love for the sake of. there are people who can love because they are. and i sometimes envy them. but i'm not that kind. i can't forget because i've been forgotten. i can't stop just because i'm not. i just have to wait. even if the waiting never ends.