Dark Poetry Prose Poetry August 11, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

8-11-03 monday 6am brick NJ

you said thank you and i coudln't be sure why. just waking up still screaming in my head. trying not to care too much burning in my heart since the moment that we met.

too early and yet, much too late. had i known you then. well, doesn't matter anyway.

it all rests upon just a few words. just one thought. balanced there like a final raindrop on summer's last blade of grass. lick it up before it's gone. quench your thirst before you no longer can.

8-11-03 monday 11am brick NJ

your life is not just your own. even people you don't know. you touch them. soft and hard. cruel and kind.

thinking about you. reading your thoughts as they mingle with mine.

there may be metaphors i could use. like how the sun rises and sets over and over. or how the tide moves back and forth. relentless. there may be words i'll never find. or am unable to.

your body is not just flesh. it holds you. it touches them.

8-11-03 monday 8:10pm brick NJ

cardboard cutout faces. smear them with the colors of your liking. bend them. corrugate the situation. stronger than what lies within.

building lives seems empty. full of denial. and not, still so.

methods outweight their conception. jeopardy again. answers preceding the questions.

why do i? why not? why choose when you can be chosen?

does it matter. could anything ever. do they. you. us. does it matter. how could it since we cannot decide. we can only resist or submit.

the birth of darkness soft and silent. purring skies and leaves whispering to the wind.

that first taste. all those that succeed it. smooth and deep and loving itself too much. slow easy and arrogant. overconfident.

your life. weighed. measured. tried. these pauses for thought. lonely. bickering with myself. sad. guilty. mistrials of the conscience. prosecutors of love confess. they've tampered with the evidence. double jeopardy. loophole. free to kill again.

8-11-03 9:30pm monday brick NJ

not first. not last. just lingering. haunted pauses. full of ghosts of thoughts.

the days push us. drag us along behind them. forcing life to act again. at least for me. but you. i wonder when. if ever. you'll move again. or be moved by anything.

you're never too far from my thoughts. never without a home in my heart. cold winter dreams thawed. left these puddles. wet my feet. cold winter finally felt the warmth and ran from it. it's no longer about what i had to go without. it's no more the thing i used to want it to be. spinning in circles so long. so dizzy. and then the feeling fades. no matter how long you spin in place. no matter how long you keep the walls moving. once you stop. a few moments. just one good pause and everything comes to a halt. the feeling is gone.

not the best. not the worst. definitely the most. how much harder could you have made it. killed me. if only you did. how could a bond grow from such sad things. no different than the way seasons trade their atmospheres. no stranger than when leaves wait so long to finally change their colors and then adruptly abandon their trees.

ask if you need. give what you have. beg the loneliness to be your friend, but it can't.