Dark Poetry Prose Poetry May 23, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

05-23-04 9:34pm sunday

time does heal. though not in kind. every lonely minute attaches to me like leaches. slowly sucking me dry.

to end a life. to take it before its time. i don't believe that can be done. if in suicide they should expire. then that was when it was supposed to happen.

a severed love does fester in my heart. like infection. gangrene. little by little taking it apart.

i guess i just haven't talent enough to describe just how it feels to be here like this. so sure that pain is your only companion. chained to it so long that you can't remember what else there is. so very certain, that alone is the only place you've ever belonged. your only true friend.

like the monster of frankenstein i wonder why i was born. long for any kind of reason to go on. like the monster of frankenstein i feel i've never belonged. and i'm tired of trying to.

can't really write it i guess. i've tried. perhaps it's just something no words can express. like the gaze of a lover. the sound of music.

feeble representations of friendship stalk my thoughts. distant greetings that grow more distant yet. words of love impale my mind as i think about how they've failed me. all those sweet and tender offerings. all poison apples. all wishes cast in wells that were empty.

the ache never really stops. it just changes form. slithers further down into the depths of my heart. it's not obvious, but.

can't stop loving. just stop hoping to get any in return. at some point the breaking stops, but how much can it really matter when so much has already been lost.

can't keep needing what i'm never going to have. can't keep pretending that these people are friends. phone calls and webpages. it's such a familiar theme. i don't understand why they drag it out. why they make it harder than it has to be.

05-23-04 sunday 10:26pm

time needn't judge us. we do it ourselves. and pain doesn't seek us. it's there tenfold in every moment of happiness we accept.

it's times like these when yourself is the last thing on your mind. when all you could ever hope to know is that someone else is all right.

almost makes you wish you had never taken that chance. makes you question why you did. even more why you still can.

what's been gained i cannot tally. but i know it was worth it. all the hurt would've been so anyway. you'll never be a regret. though i think slowly i'm coming to realize, that you're not permanent.

it hurts too much. not knowing. fretting as i am. no contact. no means of. whatever reasons we've had, perhaps it's time we allow them to expire. rather than hurting eachother more yet. i can't do this not knowing. this caring so much without a means to confess it. these pages are not enough. who knew the worst part would be just wondering what's happenied to you. if you'll be all right. if your family will survive. who knew that myself could matter this little. i never knew it until.