Dark Poetry Prose Poetry May 23, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

05-23-05 monday 9:15pm

yesterday my life was empty. but i didn't really feel the hunger anymore. it'd been so long.

but memories they don't always stay in the attic where you've stored them. and the people that once filled you up, they can reappear and remind you of how good it used to feel when they did.

i'm not one to hate. just hide away.

we're people. not songs. you can't always play the one you want.

i'm not one who can just ignore. if it's raining i have to watch it fall. if it's sunny i have to sample the warmth.

i'm not always right. not always wrong. but i was always honest and much too soft.

pretending i'm strong just isn't working anymore.

i can't take what i once felt and whittle it that thin. it's either the big stick that we wave together or if left to my own devices i'll end up beating myself with it.