Dark Poetry Prose Poetry June 24, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

9:20pm 6-24-05 friday

i am. enraptured by this nothing. mother with only dead young.

it is. the hour before, yet an eternity passed. crucifix without salvation.

no one taught me to believe in the lies. and now the truth is all i have.

truth. shackles on my heart. shadow on my grin.

all they are. all of them. are someone else's. and ocean of people for to drown me in.

a wound to create. blood to lick. and taste. taste how sweet my pain is.

how red i am.

i am. tomorrow chapping naked lips. dry. arid. listless.

a smile to grab. gulp it down. a laugh to have. stolen before it's found.

a face behind. a face ahead. and inbetween no reflection.

a touch to know. eyes apologetic as.

and then there i am.

red again.

06-24-05 11pm friday

my dearest one. how hard are you now. what ugly touch turned that soft against itself. took that sticky sweet blood and dared to form of it scars.

how can it be. why should it. time is the traitor in this rebellion. love is the treason.

don't you feel me anymore. when my sighs breathe into your open palms. isn't your sickle as sharp as ever. merciless and yet inducing such an utter calm.

the anger goes away. fold by gentle fold. the hurt cradles the afterbirth. infant death howls.

the cigarettes burn much the same way moments will. caught between my lips in a furtive embrace. stealing life as they give it.

it's not how. i know all of this.

it's not why. i know that to be only myth.

it's after. floating like a barge full of corpses. and wreaking of the stench.

it's after. when it's all over. that life finally wants what all that while it'd always possessed.

dead now, but it was worth it.

or so i tell myself as the river pushes me toward i know not what. such barrren darkness has not name. only ridges in my memory. from which to look down from. from heights to contemplate.

how i came to be here. and why i can see only just one exit.