Dark Poetry Prose Poetry July 12, 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.
07-12-05 tuesday 11pm
the world rises and ebbs like a tide against. i feel it as it enters. and as it leaves again. bigger than i can ever hope to see. more powerful that i can comprehend.
but what i know of it is all that i can. moist fingers that glance the edge. churning fevers on the verge of taking the lives they have granted.
i'm not wise enough to understand its depths. not fool enough to think that i can condense them so that i can.
just find satisfaction in laying here as it moves in and out. gracing me with its presense. it always leaves and it always comes back. and always leave again.
how fortunate.
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)
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(Just Words)
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404 (error page)
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(human stain)
Such Unusual Ideas Caught In Dead Eyes
(Suicide)
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Why? Part 2
Why Not?(for scooter)
When?(for mcdoofus)
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we have to go back!
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she sees God. He doesn't see her.
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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.