Dark Poetry Prose Poetry July 23, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

07-23-04 friday 8:59pm

absolute resistance. paisley nights that wear my thoughts like lingerie. seducing the silence.

life is afterall a terminal illness. and everyone has it.

so you can waste your time experimenting with treatments that'll never have any effect. or you can say fuck it, i'd rather be dead.

they don't know. and they never can. the demons that graize on the fruits of this land.

they slither away like snakes in eden's garden. after the apple's already been bitten. after the sin has already been committed.

life afterall is a terminal disease. everyone's dying. why fight it when submission is so very tempting.

07-23-04 9:24pm friday

little white lie. how it expands. pathetic little life. how it demands.

i caught a glimpse of the sun and then i went blind. it was my choice. for that vision to sacrfice my sight.

i flew. as if immune to gravity. i did. it was my choice. knowing that to go so high i'd have to crash.

how the night does harbor so carefully still, all those small scraps of happiness from the pages we've shred. how time apart seems to happen in a breath. an inhale keeps us close. then one exhale and we're both alone.

corners at the ceiling. angles in the dark. harsh transitions from light to not. it doesn't matter at all what you've had. it only matters what you've got.

letting swift is hard to do. letting all those knots unfold. there's a lot of wrinkles left. a lot of creases that still want to know.

i never thought. never dared to dream it. just wanted something to look forward to besides this.