Dark Poetry Prose Poetry August 12, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

8-12-03 tuesday 8:20am brick NJ

morning eyes. heavy eyelids. imbibe my way to the next. as if.

your so what's and your doesn't matters. so easy to give away. flea marrket lives. all selling their souls for quarters. so worthless when the day is over.

am i bent. am i flayed. ringing phones and hesitant hellos. am i waiting for. yes. am i hoping less. maybe sometimes when i notice my guts all over the cutting board. the knife coated with my blood. the night pan searing my emotions. hot and spicy when they hit your tongue. but hours after. indigestion. wishing you hadn't eaten so much.

it's not pretty anymore. the words ugly like how i feel. yet i'm drawn to it. the urge to quell. the instinct to punish myself. listening. trying to. while the conversations continue in my head. hating, though i never really have. but hating myself. and the life i've made. not asking why. just hesitating. then giving in. like always.

8-12-03 9pm tuesday brick NJ

what i am. what i become. is it me or them. do i create my own prison. or am i just drawn to cages.

no love for. anything. anyone. no more. will it away. make it sadder yet.

i don't want anything because i know i can't have. i don't seek happiness because i know it can't.

don't sleep. don't dream ever again. just close my eyes and let the chemicals induce rest.

leave. leave yourself. it happens if you're willing to accept the pain.

no maybes. no i wishes. just instincts insisting. just repetitive instances.

why would you. why should you. and i never asked you to. i don't mind being used. i don't mind some good old fashioned fucking. but you shouldn't have said that to me knowing it isn't true.

if i still harbor feelings. then i guess i always will. no taking back what i gave of myself to you. no emptying of the holes you filled.

8-12-03 tuesday 10:21pm brick NJ

how do i tell you when. i can't tell myself. how can i believe you love knowing no one can.

active reasoning. private denials. make the phone unable to ring and be yourself for a while.

these tainted words. this guarded heart. i don't know what it's supposed to mean or to whom. it's like trying to figure out why the moon is neccessary. why wheels spin with such certainty.

captured lives. clipped wings. struggling to fly without a method. trying not to cry as you browse the pages of. your life. your written. like a song that no one has sung. touched, but never loved.

feeling sorry for others as i try not to feel sorry for myself. wondering how their worlds are combusting as i try to keep mine from.

you can't know me. you can't feel what you claim. it doesn't happen that way. seasons don't debate. they have a progression. and it doesn't change. snow can't be blue. it must always be white. when winter is over they are forced to die. they can't live. even if they wanted to.

in my cocoon. safe. pretending caterpillars are to become butterflies. my life. my swollen empty time. you say you want to change it and i can't imagine why. my recluse. my fear of you. i can't let myself care again. be broken. it's just begun to heal. and i know that this will only make more wounds. i always knew that it couldn't last. but tried to put it aside. i always knew that it was a choice. not care or let it rip me in half. tempting as it is. i don't think that i can.