Dark Poetry Prose Poetry May 4, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

05-04-04 tuesday 8:27pm

wilderness uncharted. that's what alone is. every night the path out is different. even if you remember, which you don't, wouldn't matter.

every sip is contagious. infects all the minutes that follow it. and invasive. splits your ribcage just to check if your heart's still in there beating. deposits itself under the flesh. collects your essense in neat packets and then spreads them out across the pages to stare back at you inaudible, but so very loud.

i can't say it again, though i'm thinking it, as if someone could fathom. actually understand. no need to use these verses to remind when i can never forget.

shake my head. crack my neck. that crunch of liquid and sinew effervesccent. stale acknowledgement of the living still in this skin. this body is the shroud. keeps the soul from being naked. but this mind always strips it. leaves it shivering and flacid as a dying infant.

no one should. no one can. inpenetratable walls surround. no one is. no one ever will. dungeons too deep underground.

where no light can enter. and no exit can be found. no passages lead into. no windows dare look out.

it is sealed. and covered in layers of earth. it is a place once it finds you will never let you leave.

angry songs beat the moment into submission. like a timid wife. all evidence carefully hidden. tears that cannot be cried.

all your lives. all your days that do expire. nothing suits you. there always must be more to come. voracious existence always a hunger that knows no satisfaction.

blood, brown and dried. tears sticky and unfound. every second kills me and the next brings me back to life.

don't teach me. don't tell me anything. just leave me. an egg unhatched. this shell is much too thick for me to break out. don't pity me. don't think you know. i should've been born years ago, but this shell just wouldn't let go.

05-04-04 tuesday 9:30pm

hold me when there's nothing better. and if there is, leave me then. riding mountains high above. everything looks smaller. even the biggest things you can remember.

ask me, then wait for the answer. solutions melt into one another. a cauldron of what we choose to harbor.

i can't write. can't wite anymore. it goes so much deeper than these words can find. i linger in the vapor trails they've left behind. all morbid and wondering why i have failed.

i go to bed and wake up to the same empty mailboxes i left that night. i hear the hours tolling how much. but i don't care. it's nothing to me now.

languishing in your sacrificial rhymes. bleeding just to remember how it looks. a lifetime of this and then at last you're allowed to die. just one lifetime of loneliness and then at last you've paid your debt.

the room is filled with smoke. and so is my disposition. cause they're both closed. keep everything that happens contained. bombshelter lives are always safe from contamination, but know nothing of what goes on outside their thick walls.

one more cigarette might be enough, but it probably isn't. face it. it never is. there are no conclusions. only questions that loom. only ends you're so afraid to make happen. beginnings you don't believe. and what exists between them. so much both an enemy and a friend.

no amount of words can ever mean enough. they never did before. and now is just as suspect. no amount of calls can tip the scales toward the other end. they're just words afterall. just like these are. useless.