Dark Poetry Prose Poetry April 26, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

04-26-05 tuesday 9:45pm

somewhere in your future there i wait. like a dream you're bound to have if you should ever fall asleep again.

i don't feel tomorrow. nor yesterday. only now. as it thumps in my chest like a heart about to break. it moves in the same way. and if you listen close, you can hear the cracks.

as they slowly infiltrate.

there's only morning, noon and night. what more can we ask. something softer to make those transitions. that's all. some way to teach ignorant hearts about all the blank spaces that exist inbetween then and now.

i remember being a child. not fondly, but with a sense of loss. all the weight time bestows upon i carry it, but i don't know why. an empty locket. a bloodless cross. death dances all around it. pain pisses on.

i see the marknings. obey the borders. but for what.

looking back to see those faces once real before my eyes. they're not the same as they used to be. crayon drawings. darkly outlined 2 dimensional people.

i look at them and can only wonder how they look upon me. that is, if they ever do. the world. the heart. they're so full of people. no way of knowing if any one of them is you.

04-26-05 tuesday 10pm

given, a day, a week, a month, we've always got a better reply than the original. it's a shame time hurries us so much.

if all my encounters could be like my dreams, they'd go on forever and allow me the chance to be who i always meant to be.

but life interrupts and we are, just ourselves left with.

too much myself to be as kind as you deserve from me. too much myself to understand the point of view from which you see.

still i can learn, i believe that i can. if you would only give me the chance.

04-26-05 tuesday 10:32pm

withering to my cold construct. of how the world will eventually shape itself to fit the bottle that i clutch. because it's my world. not theirs. i make it up as i go along. i make it fly as i cause it to crash.

i listen to and am listened by. down their words fall like broken balloons. and i am the air once held inside.

angry yet, given to admit. that my anger is my shield against. how weak i feel. and always have. as the pain begs my tears, yet i resist.

woman not, and child dead. no transitions to take me from that girl i once to the person that i always was.

all that i remember is all that i want. selective yes, but purposeful.

all that i remember is what by i've been forgot. because i know the future was happening long before we noticed. and yesterday was only trying ot decipher the messages she was sending us.

it hurts to breathe. it hurts even more to ask. why we have to. against all reason life asks that we go on. and of course we do, becuase what else is there to know.

against all logic time spurs us on. every heart beat making its notch in the bedpost of our hearts.

no one needs a reason to keep on living. just that they were born. no one needs a reason. no one but me.

if they don't have one, they'll malke one up. but i cannot.

am i wrong.

i know i'm not. it's just the world pretending it's somrthing it can never be. it's just the world pounding on its drum. hoping to fool us into thinking its heart is still beating.

but i know, it long ago stopped.