Dark Poetry Prose Poetry August 20, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

friday 8-20-04 8:04am

briefly this. seashell shoes for sandy footprints. always teasing the tide. daring it to make them vanish.

longer if. skinless hearts beat under sightless eyes. feeling is liquid. and memory is fluid. but they move like the ocean. the night. the moon and the all stars agitate them.

pursuant of. the wind chases itself. like the tail of a dog.

briefly this. or so it was. stalled in the trenches of a life undone.

friday 8-20-04 10pm

life moves in stitches. constantly mending the tears we have opened. i don't always want to be alone, but i'd rather be that than to pretend i'm not when i am.

all these years i've gone to sleep at night, i never wanted to wake up, but i did and so i lived because.

it's not that i'm wounded. nor that i'm broken. it's just that i'm so alone. as far as anyone can crawl inside this skin, still i feel a million miles away from them.

it's not that i want to be healed. or that i'm looking for salvation. it's just that i don't understand any of them. and i don't blame them for not understanding me. it really is hopeless. or at least i am.

these pale charades do nothing to quell the looming concept that tomorrow hates. and yesterday even moreso. there's too much time and not nearly enough of me.

it's not that i don't care about them. just that i'm tired of myself. i'm so sick of the same old songs, but there isn't anything else.

friday 08-20-04 10:18pm

write in your inivisible inks. read with your eyes so naive. as if life exists in only one dimension. like nothing really matters except. well, in truth, it doesn't, i guess.

shuffle the hours like a deck of cards. deal them. and place your bets. knowing. knowing all the while. you've got to lose to learn how to win. that the more you risk the more you stand to gain from it.

it must be hard to fathom how any one person can spend so much time with just themselves. and not wish that. not expect something better than this.

i think that i was too young then. didn't understand why i deserved it. then later on. when it happened again. i was too old for it. too jaded to believe that beauty could ever go deeper than skin.