Dark Poetry Prose Poetry July 29, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

7-29-04 thursday 7:14am

between velvet ropes. makeshift walls divide. define. within. without. and the transitions.

if you were, are or am. i know not. words you'd think i'd love so dearly are not anything i could ever trust. not your words. not my own. anything so beautiful on the surface is bound to be ugly underneath.

what's strange about time is how it offers us a choice. it can grow feelings stronger, if we use it correct. or else if we ignore how much, it will destroy all trust.

7-29-04 7:23am thursday

every way i try to say it comes out wrong. like raindrops falling up. or waves running away from the shore. every way i try. it's always wrong. so i just say nothing. been saying nothing for so long.

every person that comes then goes. i wonder was that the plan or just an unfortunate side effect. though in reality i know, they each made their choices. and i wasn't a part of them.

every time i try to say, it always come out wrong. cause i don't really believe anyone's actually listening. so instead, i just say nothing. been saying nothing for so long.

07-29-04 thursday 7:38pm

Thinking (Wanted To Say)

I'm sitting here thinking there's something I meant to say, but didn't yet.

That I ought to, but can't. That I am not who I presumed myself as.

Just a teardrop of blue at the heart of the flame. Just a crumpled piece of paper that wanted to be a page.

I'm sitting here now with everything behind me and nothing ahead. And I wonder. I wonder what's next.

Just silver plated dreams that turn my heart green. Just a lifetime of poetry. And all those reasons. All those reasons it was written.

Colors on the verge of grey. Eyeslashes caging a stray tear. And still I can't help thinking there's something I wanted to say.

07-29-04 thursday 8:23pm

thoughts infiltrate. jagged soldiers in dwindling regimes. songs like windmills turn my wind to energry. and suddenly there is electricity where it once was dark.

for all the ways there may be to ornament the same tired refrain. every metaphor dances like fringe at the hem of yesterday. every sentence simmers over sorrow's endless flame.

i could've died so many nights. i guess i do believe i should have. that it would've been best. but i didn't. and here i am. tired champion of emptiness.

07-29-04 thursday 8:51pm

life's algorithms search only certain domains. it's a given. solemn and protective as the silence you wear to keep from feeling naked.

it's many nights. and many pages. but so few that i can read more than once. it's everything i thought it could be, but nothing i could ever trust.

can the match trust the flame as it makes it. only later to be consumed. can darkness trust the moon as it smiles upon just before morning resumes.

lay it down. lay it out. like a dead buck across your car. pluck the antlers and eat the meat. honor the kill as you would the living.

cause it once was. in some way still is. as you neatly take it apart, flesh reveals. everything it's hidden. spills out like a geiser. everything is red. it's not over, but it is dead.

it can't feel anymore. but it remembers. it's not alive, but life hasn't been forgotten yet.

9:27pm 07-29-04 thursday

life is my suicide. worn t-shirt i keep on wearing. so full of holes. so unclean.

life is suicide. it has to be. because i've always been dying.

excerpts from days ago. dreams that pound like bass drums as i march. as life's foot soldiers march through them.

you guessed you had, but you were wrong. you supposed it would last, but time had other plans.

you're old now. and so am i. we're so much older than when we we first let indecision decide.

quicksand moments pull me down. the more i struggle the faster i sink. isn't it just so very fitting given the person i've come to be.

we never did know. not as if. slopes and valleys that we thought about, but never touched. ignition sounds. and motors hot. pop the clutch and hope that the gears don't give out.

life is suicide. if you had ever guessed. flower petals catching dew drops as morning lets. tomorrows doused in lighter fluid. and ever night a spark ready to set.

07-29-04 thursday 9:44pm

overture. loud as pain. unyielding. unable. fourth death. last reprise. dress the ghost in denim. forget anything ever did. focus on what is.

can't i. shouldn't it be so. that this rupture in the wall of my heart could somehow create a bypass. that i could actually know again. how it is to not care. how it is just to let. dropping leaves unafraid of the descent. dropping leaves looking forward to their deaths.

such is that nothing can. sinew monsters in need of skin.

almost like yersterday never happened. all that past is just a dream i had. almost as if nothing ever mattered. just fractal images in unconscious that fell apart as.

i could dedicate it all. every single word to someone or something. but there is no reason to. only mirrors that shattered as i sought a reflection.

i could let it. let it beg like it is so dependent. leak the little flame into the infero and marvel at its expanse.

only it's over. has always been. like everything i've ever started.