Dark Poetry Prose Poetry April 25, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

8:45pm monday 4-25-05

sometimes i'm evil. others i'm kind. fluctuating like a sailboat adrift on the ocean. suddenly the wind changes direction and i'm going the wrong way again.

sometimes it's poetry. others it's just tears i would never let myself cry.

i'm not a woman. never have been. just a boy in girl's clothing. i'm not growing up. i'm just giving in.

sometimes i'm friendly. mostly just shy. the world talks so much. i get caught up in the listening. the world talks so much, i don't know when, if ever, i should try to interrupt.

i like to hear it chatter. like lying in the bottom of the forest and listening to the all wildlife . all the sounds mixing together become a mantra. and my thoughts fall asleep to thier lullaby. while i'm still wide awake staring at the ever changing portraits in the sky.

sometimes it's easy to be who they see in me. others i want to be just the opposite. or maybe even myself, if courage should combust.

sometimes it's all on fire. and i'm struggling to put it out. other times it's just sparks. and i'm so afraid a real flame will never catch again.

and even if it does, will i be the victim or the villain. is there any other option. and could i take it if it was given.

04-25-05 9:23pm monday

compendium of goodbyes checked out of the library in my past. every one with its own definition. each as unique as any snowflake that's ever fallen.

and just as apt to melt when it hits the pavement.

stop looking and it finds you. that's the cliche. close your eyes and it sneaks up on you. put its hands over your face and yells, guess who?!

turn around to see the face that goes with those fingers you recognized the moment that. remembering how they once stroked you until you resonated sharp like a badly tuned violin.

it's not love anymore. just loneliness. and fear. time tying knots in my rope. so that i can't go back to those places ever again. climb higher. or stay where i'm at. continue growing older. or else pretend i can't.

realizing moments that long ago i never did. how fatal all those decisions were to my pursuit of happiness.

10:30pm 04-25-05 monday

darkness stroked in memory's abyss. looking outside only to be directed back within.

i'm not young. not young enough anymore to believe their bullshit.

and still. i'm not old enogh. not old enough yet to dismiss.

i know i need something, even if i don't know what it is.

i'm a faulty tower. i don't deny. but if i should lean. is that any reason to push?

i'm not made like the rest of you. i didn't want to be, but i'm different. my world comes in pulses. like flash bulbs going off. i'm blinded by the moments that are meant to make me see again.

i'm weakened by the weights life has asked me to lift.

there's harder. this i know. never forget. as dark as it is, there is always darker yet.

but alone isn't so easily offset.

being alone doesn't really matter. not now. not tonight. it's tormrrow that i fear. the day after. and the next.

life flows like water. those similar molecules they stick together. and when they begin to split. all the rest follow. they get so far apart that they don't know how to ever be together again.

it's so old, but it feels new to me.

i'm sitting here sucking on life's tailpipe and wondering why i'm still alive. what it wants from me.

and if i can ever provide it.