Dark Poetry Prose Poetry June 22, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

06-22-05 wednesday 9:36pm

governed by disenchantment. though it's more of a dictatorship.

carving nights like crude wooden flutes. to blow into them and perhaps hear music.

nothing holds me. see me wriggle free. or else be loosed.

my thoughts race like bare feet on summer sand. my thoughts cajole, but i stifle them.

lantern in an alley. backstreets of your life. not really trying to resist the darkness. only clutching to the last echoes of its faltering light.

i can't hold. with closed fist. i can't touch. with open fingers.

better still to close our eyes. remember when it was still able to happen.

just the hairs that gather at the drain as the water makes its exit. all tangled up in eachother.

cleansing is such a dirty event.

6-22-05 11:22pm wednesday

could i be more real. moreso myself. i can't imagine.

the world is a helicopter.

i prefer the ground.

at least, if nothing else, it's familiar.

i'd like to know why they landed and why they took off.

but that isn't for the knowledge of the runway.

just lay down. feel the roar.

don't ask me if. don't ask me when. time propositions and i find it all so senseless.

that we should think we matter to anyone other than ourselves. that we should ever give our hearts up to strangers and expect they should be impressed.

i could blame myself. but i'm much more fascinated by the prsopect of blaming you.

i could admit my mistakes. but i'd rather steal this silence. assigin the pain to you.

i don't have much time. but which i do. i choose to offer. one last chance to rememebr.

i don't have much time. but with what remains, i want to ask why. and when and how it ever mattered to you.