Dark Poetry Prose Poetry June 25, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

7:42am friday 6-25-04

just be happy for yourself. don't worry about me. be happy for yourself when you're woken up in the morning. even if you're tired. at least you're not lonely. even if you work too long. too hard. at least it's for a good reason.

be happy for yourself. and i'll be happy for you. what else can i do.

6-25-04 friday 8:04pm

my life is a void. a huge gaping chasm wherein echos that last shout of life. i watch myself slipping. falling further in. but i am hypnotized by the sight of it. cannot fathom how to regain my grip. or all that progress that i've lost to it.

my life is a void. so much empty that anything put into it is swallowed up. consumed in the emptiness. my life is a void. all light is eclipsed.

i was sitting quietly and thought, god, i've been depressed for so many years. 24, 25, something like that. how have i survived this long. how much longer til i quit.

there's no animosity, but i don't see the point. clinging to the fraying strands as this relationship comes undone. i don't see why you would want to talk to me. when i've nothing good to say. so instead i just say nothing. i don't see why you would care whether i'm alive or if i'm dead. when either way your life is unaffected.

whatever it was we used to have between us, this isn't an ample substitute. whatever we gave up to be right again it must have taken away too much.

cuz i feel alone no matter what. whether i'm talking to myself or if there's another person. i feel like when i write emails that i'm sending them to myself. don't even expect a response. i feel like when i talk to people that all i can do is listen. cause if i talk i'll need more proof that i'm acutally talking to someone else.

8:39pm friday 6-25-04

tumbling minutes. rock slide hours already partially eroded. minutes rain down like debris. the mountains they make up are crumbling.

glowing wraithlike thoughts necromance this sadness in a cruel and seductive assault. it was over so long ago, but the clock under my skin keeps on ticking. it was always nothing. it just wore those different costumes and tricked me.

at first the sight of was so prominent. that i could hardly see anything else. then slowly it vanished. like water boiling into vapor. lost to the heat meant to keep it warm. it evaporated.

second it was sound. incoming and eager. please listen. please speak to me. long riverboats of loneliness that floated slowly through love's various tributaries.

until at last the ocean was arrived at. and then, exponentially the distance grew. the horizon rippling vague and ominous as the vast expanse enveloped me. there's water in all directions. no sights to look at. no sounds to follow back. just floating further into the deep.

8:50pm 6-25-04 friday

i thought, what's wrong me with, but then i decided it would take too much time. too much memory to hold all those things. so i just tried not to think about how far they run from. how consistently they move on. that it's only a matter of time until you too are as good as gone.

you almost are anyway. it's on the tip of your tongue, but you haven't the heart to say.

and what am i to do anyway. cry on you. whine. complain. as if that would do any good. what am i to expect. that you should change how lonely i feel. that you could ever again make life worth the effrot. no, actually that's not what you did. not what it was. now that i think about it. somehow then it was almost effortless. happiness kneeled at my feet and kissed them. and i knew it couldn't last, but at the time, i never really thought about what i'd do when all that was left to do was to remember it.

on better days i would choose alone at my leisure. it was a luxury instead of a predator. in better days i would pick alone like apples. had time to wait for them to ripen. now i have to eat them when they're still green. in better days. better weeks. alone was a side dish. not the entree. in better days there were menus and choices. in better days. better nights. there was the same hunger, but more than enough to satisfy.

now alone is all i have to feed on. now that you are gone.

6-25-04 friday 9:35pm

you're not doing me any favors. just harbors storms soon find. you once were a change in the weather. but now it just stagnates. as we stutter. as hearts grasp for ropes that just won't climb.

maybe it's the way the weekend changes how i feel. nothing to occupy til monday. no hope of knowing you again til tuesday. maybe even longer still.

maybe it's just how different lives mend. they're all hares and i'm a tortoise. only i don't win in the end.

i drink it down. just like all the nights before this. and hope that i'll get high enough to rememeber how to forget.

it fluctuates like those conversations of ours. you looking for an indicator that i'm okay. me trying trying dsiguse all the evidence that i'm not.

i can't tell you i'll be all right. i wish i could, but i can't without lying. i can't tell you that it's better now. i wish i could, but i just can't. not without it being a lie.

maybe it's just the way that friday's flesh it a little more tender than the rest. and me being the blade that i am, i always cause it to bleed. even if only by accident.

i just wonder what i'm to do with this waning sunset that you've become. shall i look to the sky. beg the clouds. plead with darkness not to happen. at least not yet.

but it's a funny thing, the closer it comes to, the more that i'm willing to let. the more the horizon eats it up, the less i feel like i need the sun. better still just to be brave and let it go. forget that it ever shined upon. it's easy since i barely had the chance to know.

it will be just what it intends regardless of how we try to stall it. count fast. count slow. it doesn't matter. it will still happen. just like everything else we thought inconceivable that became facts and secrets. more often than not, we don't live these lives, they live us. more often that not, the only choice we have is how we react to what we've done. how we find it in ourselves to love it after it no longer loves us.

or else pretend. pretend there are still colors in that rainbow. even though our eyes tell us different. or else pretend. pretend there's still some pot of gold. though we've already been there and know there isn't.

it's easy to love you, but hard to withhold it when. it's too easy to love you. too hard to accept.

06-25-04 friday 10:14pm

so you're good. what more can i ask. i lay in wait like a breath no one took. lost in the oblivion of almost was. lost in the farce that is love.

as if satire can somehow alleviate. as if what you glimpsed could entice. not unlike a noose hoping for a neck. of course you wouldn't swing. you've so much reason to live for left.

so you're good. or so it seems. what more am i to want. i cascade like ripples through a pond. the stone that's thrown making its waves. concentric circles of naught.

so i lsiten. and wonder what to say. as words arrive, but don't make snese. i wonder why. why we stil try when that terrotiry's already been claimed.

it's gone. can't you see it leaving. i know it's not my imagination. your'e less than you've ever been. and all i can do is wait. wait for the leaving to set in.

don't make it harder than it need be. either commit to the friendship or else leave it be. don't make it harder than it ought to be. either love me just as much as you once did. or else commit to the fact that these are just scraps.

leave it this way. it's your're right. it's your choice. leave it. now that there's nothing to drraw you back. no pleasure in it that you can find.

leave it as so it deserves. eagles with broken wings. it once flew. once preyed. but now it's crippled. the flight is over. but the memory of it still stings. the flight has eneded, but the memory of it still begs.