Dark Poetry Prose Poetry June 19, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

6-19-03 thursday 9:33pm brick NJ

the things i used to want. well, they just seem funny now. and the way we used to talk. i can't really remember how.

don't want to sit here wondering. don't want to sit here writing just because nothing else is happening.

i can agree that we're just friends. casual as it is. i can act the part. but i can never really feel like that. i can take the facts and arrange them neatly in my mind. i can take the role i've been cast. but nothing can change how i feel in my heart.

there is no healing. now i see. just dealing. just covering up and trying to be what each day needs. there are no terms to come to. just the terms that come to me. pretend to agree with them even though all of me can't. i'll be what i can. if it's friend or if it's less than. i can memorize all the definitions, but that doesn't make it easy to live by them. and i still don't know if i can. i try. each day. each night is different. hold back. keep it in. but why. i hold back. i sit and listen as each and every second asks me a thousand times that same question. but why must i?