Dark Poetry Prose Poetry August 17, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

08-17-04 9:56pm tuesday

onion skin people. i see right through them. with a charcoal heart. and indigo memory. all the edges are jagged. the surface is full of creases. nothing is even. nothing is clean. everything is shrouded in dull outlines. fractured curves. and broken lines.

if you think you know, then you most certainly don't. and if you think you never can, chances are you have, but wish that you could give it back.

time tends to exceed me. i'm just not fast enough. my life walks right passed me and all i can bring myself to do is make a quick sketch as. perhaps a few words and then. we both listen to the other laugh while the distance increases until the sound of it has vanished.

yesterday and tomorrow pose equal threats. and now. now is all i have left.