Dark Poetry Prose Poetry August 19, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

8-19-03 tuesday 8:21am brick NJ

who we've hurt. be it mistakenly or on purpose. who we've loved. accidental or plotted courses. it always ends. it's always a circle. good and bad coming together by degrees to meet in the middle. pain and pleasure dizzying foolish hearts. like spinning tops. the world moving faster than you ever thought. you give. you love. you take a little. your one chance to know how that feels. and those whom it belongs to. you make yourself forget. you have to. until the option decides it doesn't want you. until what you've chosen suddenly chooses you.

those we've hurt. accidently or by denial. those we've loved. wrong or right. weakness. falling. long long nights. give a little. take a drop. couldn't pass up the one chance to know how it feels to. now it's gone. quickly as those summer thunderstorms that drench you. soaked to the bone in what they gave. when the raindrops stop falling so abrupt and you feel yourself rapidly drying up. there's nothing you can do. it was so good while it lasted. brief as it was. it was so much love. i can hold onto to that. i must. it happened. wrong or right. it was. and then suddenly it was not.

not unexpected. not without justification. not a shock to the senses, but a blow to something less obvious. for all your preparations, you still went in without choices. for all your defenses you still got taken. defeated. even knowing you couldn't win wouldn't stop you. even knowing it would surely end like this, you kept on hoping it never had to.

my love. my lover. my friend. my passion. my muse. my temptation. what have i done to you. your life. myself. my enemy. that ghost in my head. that shadow on my heart. you saw it all and still wanted to see more.

goodbye is not what i can say now. not yet. maybe never. goodbye is too definite. too forever.

8-19-03 10am tuesday brick NJ

taste my tears from this distance,
mark these lives by their insistance
that happiness still exists
and can be given;

like a gift you can't afford,
you save up for so long,
by the time you have enough
you find out it can never be yours;

taste my tears from this distance,
put a footnote in your heart
that this love it did live,
always will;

that unlike most it
was free for a while,
much too brief i admit,
but even that short while
was more than i ever could've wished;

10:30am

if all i have left to do is write
am i still alive?
if never again to taste your breath,
how long will your touch
still remain in my flesh?

if you're gone am i
then to just forget?
or let the memory linger on
as broken hearts turn now into then?

8-19-03 tuesday 8:37pm brick NJ

if i seem much too cavalier given the situation. it's only because it doesn't feel real yet. if circumstance has banged her gavel and given the verdict. i heard it, but they've not taken me to my cell yet.

hold tight the last few hours before. hold fast to the numbness that has come to absorb.

if i claim to love you then i feel i should behave as such. not jeopardize your life for my own reasons. if love is truly about the other person then maybe i ought to prove just how much. not just say it. not merely succumb to the temptations of.

don't lie to me. say everything's fine when it never was. don't lie to her anymore. most of all don't lie to yourself. pretend our happiness is more valuable than anyone else's.

i would like to be able to say we'll still be friends, but it doesn't seem possible. to do it again. take that love and push it down so far into the depths of my heart where it can never reach the surface. i'd like to be able to believe that we'll still be something more than strangers when. but i think that if we could've we would've never been this. if we were capable of being just friends, then none of this would've ever happened.

8-19-03 tuesday 9pm brick NJ

your fingerprints color my skin. black and blue tattoos of your presense in my flesh. they don't ache with pain, but they do ache for you.

and my thoughts seem to bleed just a little bit every time that i stop to listen what they want to put to these pages regarding this.

my silence seems much moreso than it's been. since you filled it. my solitude i call home easy to return to yet, not where i want to be again.