Dark Poetry Prose Poetry May 26, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

5-26-03 monday 9:20pm brick NJ

there's not always something to say. or at least something that you can. there are pages lives leave blank on purpose. times that can't be put to ink.

your runaway heart. your timid little smiles. those moments when you couldn't think. when happiness was more than just a concept.

there are all kinds of poets. all sorts of lovers. many different varieties of friend. but every poet must have a reason in pen. every lover a common desire. and every friend arms always wide open. or else they're just words we throw about like balls on a playground. or else they're just curtains we use to disguise what we haven't found.

in both verse and in time i've pledged myself to you. knowing all that while i was alone in what i'd done. in heart and in soul i've fallen so much in love. every day moreso than the one before it. without a reason to. every day burrowing deeper than the last. and nothing to show for it.

my disease. my own demons. and you the backdrop to this play that i've staged. you the climax that never came.

so much i couldn't say. more that i'd write. so much i wouldn't say. afraid that you would and afraid that you wouldn't. scared you could and just didn't. so much i couldn't say. left alone to the pages. so much i shouldn't have sent. and still more that you've never read.

afraid for not. afraid to be. alone in my musings as i've been. only you are different. only for the first time, i wanted you to want me.