Dark Poetry Prose Poetry June 7, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

6-7-05 tuesday 9am

fluctuating between the possibility of saving myself and the tempation to let myself sink.

people looking over my shoulder. judgements made. both my own and others. a portrait with an unfinished face.

with pen, with paper. it knows me not. with pity or with anger. neither do me any favors.

the ground below. the sky above. or is it the reverse. either way. it's not for you to judge.

06-07-05 tuesday 9:59pm

quiet ordains. nothing left to desire. every breath is a placebo. i'm not really alive.

the memory yields. now has the right of way. empty pick-up truck with malfunctioning brakes.

the asphalt wheezes under my wheels. as they spin. the road unravels endlessly like static on a tv that's not connected.

the scabs, they feel so ripe to pick.

i want to bleed again.

06-07-05 tuesday 10:41pm

chewing time like bubble gum. it hurts my teeth. it makes me want to blow some. bubbles that is. and have them pop. stick to my skin.

refine your sugar. refine your everything you ingest.

we are lamps with three way switches. dim. middle. too bright.

we are bulbs with tender filaments.

hopelesslly deteriorating by the light we emit.

cut me off. flip the circuit.

i'm so near to losing my ability to produce light.

i'm asking you, if you can, take me as or else just forget. if this defective was good enough to love then, why need it change if.

crowing like the newborn's head. out of the tunnel life built it in. damp and red and not yet fit for the world it's met.

clean me off. unplug my nose. my throat. and wrap me in a warm blanket. i'm still an infant compared to. everyone is.