Dark Poetry Prose Poetry June 30, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose
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Dark Art
your eyes slit these wrists and kill me so much better
than i ever did
knowing life is a scab, a crusty, bloody seal of a wound. and wanting so much to pick at.
Sad Poems
by the alcoholic poet.
06-30-05 thursday 10:37pm
pitchfork grin dons your lips again. i'm not in the least surprised to find blood on it.
i don't ask. just listen quietly. like the wind will right before the storm's about to begin.
i can't scar the paper. not permanently. it only bends and gives.
friends seem to be only weights around my neck. though they're always claiming to be helping me lift.
i guess i couldn't believe now even were it true. once the glass turns opaque there's no seeing through it. or it seeing you.
whatever is inside it, is for only it to know.
the only way anyone else can, is to break it open.
Poetry
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Art/Sad Art 1
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the art of this
site neatly compiled into two pages.
Thinking
(Wanted To Say)
Feeling
(Just Words)
Always (You)
404 (error page)
Four Oh For
(human stain)
Such Unusual Ideas Caught In Dead Eyes
(Suicide)
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What (I Want)
Why? Part 1
Why? Part 2
Why Not?(for scooter)
When?(for mcdoofus)
How?(for myself)
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we have to go back!
God Jesus Satan
she sees God. He doesn't see her.
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Deep Thoughts for the Day
Awesome Costumes for Halloween
sometimes
i think it would be nice to be fragile. then maybe once in a while someone would
be gentle
i feel so lost, especially when the sun shines, that
it accentuates how dark, how dark is my life.