Dark Poetry Prose Poetry May 14, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

05-14-05 saturday 9:57pm

i remember when the nights in may were never this cold. and the dandelions would flourish. hundreds of children picking them to breathe their wishes with.

heat didn't come. but humidity did. so abrupt. so ready to rain, the sky looked down on me and spit.

i'd have spit back if i thought i could ever reach.

isn't it enough that i'm going through this night after night. that the path i dug has flooded. and i'm trapped on my island.

wasn't it yesterday that made you who you are tonight. don't forget her, when most you need her insight.

isn't it curious how the burrows we dig leave us in darkness. i'd rather not be safe from the predators if this is how i must live.

how can i convince her that i feel when. spark struggling against the wind. dry sulfur desperately scraping the flint.

i hear the cries that come from words whose tongues have been extracted. i see their lips moving and understand them.

but words are only words. and that is all i am.