Dark Poetry Prose Poetry August 21, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

8-21-03 thursday 8:15am brick NJ

now that i've woken. left the night to gather her bets. it is time for these lives to settle their debts.

now that i've said it. told circumstance to go fuck itself. it's so hard to say anything else.

it was much too brief, though i know it had to be. any longer would've been too much. any greater wager would've left us both bankrupt.

8-21-03 thursday 9:25pm brick NJ

i don't why it could ever matter that much. if life is this empty then i guess something must fill it up.

if birds must fly. and fish must swim. then hearts must beat. and people must give.

fortune's smile always masks an evil grin. fate's gifts never come without conditions.

pull me in. pull me out. strip away the muscle to discover what is hidden.

darkness engulfs my sorrow and for a moment the silence is a friend. thinking that i had to. knowing that i did. it's sad now, but it wasn't then. it hurts now, but it felt so good when.

crippled thoughts limp onward in their quest. dragging their shadows behind them. dark lifeless puddles of what life, love and memory collect. broken thoughts scramble to put themselves together again. constructing first the edges and then working their way toward the center. mystified as the image begins to make sense. jigsaw hearts and should've beens.

8-21-03 thursday 10:49pm brick NJ

don't know what to say. or to whom i should say it. don't know why the sun sets every day only to keep on coming back up.

it's as if she couldn't care less whether or not the earth acknowledges her existence. let alone loves her. it's as if she knows that she's so needed without ever being told it.

in those last few minutes prior to giving in that's just when all the answers begin to whisper their secrets. in those final few seconds just before you do what you never thought you would is when who you are, who you've been comes into question.

if i should write. if i should cry. feathers in the midst of flight falling silently to the earth as the wing they once loved forgets. soaring onward in its quest. if i should rhyme. or just plain write. darkness revelling in its own devices. shadows lost in shadows darker still. songs repeating until they've forgotten why they sing. rhythms still clawing for the feelings that they've shown the door. flesh still brooding on the touches it can't absorb.