Dark Poetry Prose Poetry May 9, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

05-09-05 monday 10[m

i don't tell much. niether do you. silence keeps us each company as we ponder if we'll love again.

we try to move the world, but it only moves us.

we try to stay still and are always being shoved.

there's no direction that i wouldn't go in to see what you look like from there. there's no cave i wouldn't enter to test the range of your presense.

i look inside searching for what in me you ever could want. i don't doubt you. only myself.

there's plenty to read. plenty to feel. but little to hold. espcially when our arms are empty and hearts so weighted.

it takes faith, and a lot of it, to believe in anything you can't see or touch. and faith has always been something which i've never had enough of.

05-09-05 10:48pm monday

when time doesn't move fast enough. and the tv's all but dead. you feel as though you'll never make it to that next breath.

when friends come in pulses. like the weight of your blood upon your veins. swimming as it does against the current. every heartbeat straining to find the next.

and memory pursues that which it does best. all that life you lived before you were who you are since. all those phases of the moon that determined when your tide would rise again.

i don't know what to feel anymore.

or even if, i can ever feel again. anything besides this emptiness as it multiplies like a virus in my chest.

i wish i knew why alone suddenly tastes so good to me. or how i couldd curb this addiction. but i don't know. don't know what to feel other than what i always have.

autumn as it lets go of. winter as it buries the dead. and no spring to speak of. no more seeds to plant. just the ones that never sprouted.

i wish i could tell myself that i'll learn to, but i know i won't. the more i learn, the less i want to know.

everything dies. it's paramount.

there's every reason for me to love you. and i would, if i only knew how.