Dark Poetry Prose Poetry May 16, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose
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Dark Art
your eyes slit these wrists and kill me so much better
than i ever did
knowing life is a scab, a crusty, bloody seal of a wound. and wanting so much to pick at.
Sad Poems
by the alcoholic poet.
05-16-05 8:45pm monday
bone without marrow. brittle. hollow.
the heart does not beat. it sighs. quiet and humble as it tallies how far it's wandered from. how near it's willing to be.
writing for the rhythm and the feel of the execution.
as the words flow in a rapid river. everntually they reach the cliff and plunge down over that waterfall edge.
and i go with them. all my sorrow. all my happiness. exploding in a fury as it hits bottom once again.
muscle without tension. weak. strand by strand the words cut those threads. until every limb is useless. feeble and amputated of every extremity. friends. lovers. people. i can't feel anything. love. hate. shame. i no longer know what they mean.
bone without marrow. hollow. echoing. about to break. unwilling to heal.
Poetry
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Dark Art
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Art/Sad Art 1
Dark Art 2
the art of this
site neatly compiled into two pages.
Thinking
(Wanted To Say)
Feeling
(Just Words)
Always (You)
404 (error page)
Four Oh For
(human stain)
Such Unusual Ideas Caught In Dead Eyes
(Suicide)
Who? (To Whom)
What (I Want)
Why? Part 1
Why? Part 2
Why Not?(for scooter)
When?(for mcdoofus)
How?(for myself)
Extras
Old Poems
we have to go back!
God Jesus Satan
she sees God. He doesn't see her.
Savatoons Web Design
Deep Thoughts for the Day
Awesome Costumes for Halloween
sometimes
i think it would be nice to be fragile. then maybe once in a while someone would
be gentle
i feel so lost, especially when the sun shines, that
it accentuates how dark, how dark is my life.