Dark Poetry Prose Poetry June 9, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

06-09-05 thursday 10:19pm

don't turn around. looking back at me like some lost little lamb. you're not lost at all. you're only trying to emphasize how lost you think i am.

you don't own the rights to my pain. so don't sing that song anymore.

don't be just how you wish i wasn't. jeans with holes in the knees.

just another cigarette between my lips vanishing.

the smoke be my guide as i follow those memories back to their source. to at last free myself of thier influence.

not here. nor there. just if. like the spark of a match struck that doesn't ignite. forcing you to try again. because you know the potential is there. because it tends to tempt you like that.

swollen fingers. gaunt chest. as the songs march on. but the parade is no longer of interest.

no night can kill. no day can cure.

cold tin roof without a cat.

the glass menagerie still intact.

lives lay on the floor like gifts hastily unwrapped.

bows and ribbons and empty boxes litter the mind. tissue paper tustles the heart.

it's never over. but sometimes you just have to stop.