Dark Poetry Prose Poetry May 11, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

05-11-03 sunday 11:20pm brick NJ

understood if you don't feel like talking to me.

maybe i wouldn't wanna talk to me either if i was in your place.

over the course of the time that we've sorta known each other, i've put a lot of words, a lot of feelings out on the table. more than i should've i guess.

but i just always wanted you to know. to be confident in just how very much i care about you. no lie.

i always figured by what you said it was understood. my feelings were deeper, but yours were still enough that friendship was an option. call me stupid. yea, i really believed that.

i never. you'll never know all the ways. i've never told you. i don't suppose i ever will. that's not why.

i don't regret anything. it was mostly a pleasure. except that i trusted you. i trusted you with all the love i had for you. and you just shit all over it.

all those gifts. they just seem to laugh in my face. all those things you'd give. it's almost as if you tried to buy me. though i don't know why you would. when there are much prettier people to purchase.

all those gifts. even if you meant them, anyone that could satisfy, you deserve better than. friendship, as i'm sure you alreayd know, isn't to be foudn in how much credit you have. friends, as i'm sure you have long since learned, has no weakness for capital gains. i almost thought that i knew why all those gifts would arrive instead of you. but i'm too old now to pretend that's it all that simple. i'll never know. and i'm not really sure that i even want to.

you take a select few into your heart with the hope that they will also. we pause for a moment in our pain and hope that a minute or two will grant you that pleasure you've been craving. and well, if it doesn't come through what can you do besides try to act as if you never needed. you can beg. you can sit and wonder at why they deceived. but in the end you'll still be alone just as you always were. and when it comes down to the last minutes you'll find yourself still wishing that they could've love you like you did them. even if you always knew they never would. love is cruel like that. life jsut doesn't let you forget so easily. it's never what you wanted. and it's never over until.