Dark Poetry Prose Poetry July 27, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

7-27-04 8:03am tuesday

i've written before now and i'll write after i guess. i've written for love and for friends. and all the pale shades of grey that dance between them.

of summer and winter. of daylight and darkness. sometimes for the beauty in and others for the ugliness.

written to ask, but rarely to answer. written to both the past and the future. but never dared to mail a single letter.

of myself and them and all whom. of my world and theirs and the galaxies between. i've written if only because that is what i do.

and you've read it. so many have. yet every word remains a virgin still.

tuesday 07-27-014 10:16pm

so the night does divine secrets that lives incline. pillows taut with charms unknown. flesh is cast like lanterns against. til we wake again.

i could've known better. that's obvious. should've known better i guess. but that doesn't seem to matter now. since i know i've never known anything. and i accept.

i could just drown in it. all those waves i once thought i could ride that drilled me into the sand. i could just bury myself with them. all those castles that fell apart when.

there's nothing wrong with alone. nothing at all wrong with it. that's what i keep telling myself. cause no one could ever make a difference. but that doesn't stop me from wishing that they did.

september's rose is frail and cold. ready to die, but. save the petals. save the stem. imagine that it could bloom again.

it may never, but, it will remeber how you thought it could.

some feelings are better left to the pages of youth. and i'm much too old for this. some lives, they happen so quick. you'll think that they haven't really lived, but know. know that they did.

07-27-04 tuesday 10:55pm

hyperbole is the foundation of life. that we could breathe another minute for nohting in return. that we could wake up again without any good reason.

it infests. crawls under your skin. and you scratch at, but can't rid yourself of the menace.

i used to think i was alive, but then i stopped counting the minutes and noticed they wer'e counting either.

i used to think that love was or could be just enough. but then i stopped wishing for and realizd that it didn't have the same plans as i.

so days became more than perhaps they should've. and nights let me be less than i otherwise would. but in the end the truth stayed the same regardless.

i listened to the phone ring as i had many times in the past. only this time. for the first time i had a choice. becuase all that i had was just as much as i had wanted from. and i knew there was no love. no any person who.

sunset mixed with memory until. it all spilled over the rim of the glass. and in that dirty puddle i splashed.

no longer asking. quiet as i've ever been. just watching. bearing witness to the phenomenon of existence.

humanity at its weakest. afraid to die. so hungry to live. but never knowing why. so eager to conitinue as. but without any reason that it should.

i guess i i'm the worst case. cause i should've let long ago. only it's hard to do. harder than i thought it would be.

i guess alone is not that bad. it's just remembering when you weren't that makes it hard.

it shouldn't be money, but it is. and i'd save you if i could. but even if, you wouldn't let me.

i'd save you if it were that simple. it just never is.