Dark Poetry Prose Poetry June 30, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

06-30-04 7:32am wednesday

don't listen to me now as in silence i tread. with forked heart and fanged love all full of venom. don't look upon. don't ask how. just say goodbye to that girl you once knew. she is dead.

don't count the emptied containers. don't ask why. don't weigh me down with questions i've long since shed.

don't feed me full of nothing and insist that i shouldn't still be hungry. well, i am. there's nothing you can do about that.

don't listen to me now as tears are withheld. gripping silence as i do. like a sword in so many battles used. to point it next at no one else. to point it instead at my own chest.

don't look upon. don't ask still. that girl you seek, she is gone.

wednesday 06-30-04 9:30pm

just one word is really all that's required. but i can't resist the temptation to take it farther. it's both a strength and a weakness. just one word. but i could never let it be that easy. always have to make it harder.

how could one word ever really be enough when these lives tend to ask so much. how is one word ever to suffice for all the years we've tried and tried. only one word. then nothing more. just one word. goodbye.

06-30-04 wednesday 9:35pm

lost again. haven't lost myself. only them. or they've lost me. i don't know which.

clearing heads and quiet nights mix into a cocktail of unpleasant why's. i've never been able to lie to myself, so it's no surprise that i can't lie very well to anyone else. i just don't know if that matters now.

if i could sleep. just close my eyes and let it leave. like it used to. when my head would gently fade to black like the ending to a movie. if i could sleep again without soemthing to induce it. and could wake up feeling like i once did. that i wasn't just forcing my eyes to stay open. that living wasn't all just pretend.

i drove down this road. i know it's for me to drive back. or else hit the dead end hard as i can.

i don't know that i believe my life ever had the potential to be more than this. actually, i used to think it could only be less. i could try to be an optimist and say i might exceed my own expectations again. or i can stay a realist and admit that was just life making sure i didn't die. not yet. i don't understand why. but it still isn't ready to let me go. i think it's not our choice. it belongs to greater forces. when it's decided i guess i'll know. wehn it's willing to give me an exit i'll be ready to take it.

9:54pm 06-30-04 wednesday

how do you breathe with so much weight on your chest? i try to understand, but can't imagine how you do it.

i just want to put it on myself . make it so you don't have to. but you can't or won't give me the chance to be that heroic.

the shadow is the guardian. the silence is the cell. and within it all is calm, but all is not well.

the window is lit up by the bright eyes of a waiting car. i look out and wonder where they are going. why they are.

what good is all that driving when it only takes you nowhere. what good is all that distance when it all gets eaten up in so much despair.

i watch you read and wonder why. is it akin to the urge to stare at a car wreck. is that what i am like?