Dark Poetry Prose Poetry August 27, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

9:49pm friday 08-27-04

i didn't have an answer then. and i don't have one now. just thought bubbles i'd blow in your direction to see if you'd pop them.

at the corner of a smile there's always the hint of a frown. it's always in there. it's just a matter of if we can keep it from getting out.

i lose everything. everyone. first them. then myself. i lose it all the time. because i've never really felt any of it was mine.

it's easy to claim that you're miserable and not explain. but it requires a lot of courage to take inventory of all those reasons. it might not ever make sense to anyone else, but that doesn't matter. you're only trying to make sense of it for yourself.

it's easy to let people leave and put it down as they didn't care. but it's hard when you can't lie to yourself like that. and you know. you know without a doubt the reason is all that you lack.

i've always told myself i'd never assume. never judge. that i'd give before i'd take and not change even if that meant going bankrupt. i always told myself i'd be the sort of friend i always hoped they would be to me. even if that never worked out quite to my advantage i wouldn't give in to the temptation.

when night falls i remember all of them. all those fallen leaves. my now naked branches. and i just hope that no new ones will ever appear. i don't want to lose them again.

10:56pm 8-27-04 friday

in your last breath think of me then. like a bird on the edge of the sky begging the horizon. i'll forever wish that i could've been. backdoor dreams that never saw the front porch steps.

when you're alone even with, i'll be there then. remembering as you do while time kisses the wind.

i am not. never have been. we couldn't be even in the best of circumstances, but that doesn't detract from the feeling that. we missed some chance. some star that wished and fell. but we didn't see it. it was wrong for more reasons than the obvious, but that doesn't stop love from thinking it could've overcome.

i thiink i want to be alone now rather than play the jester in this courtship of deposed friendships. i think. no, i know that what people will do never quite makes sense. i think that it was easy to love, all of it. but it was impossible to trust.

just stones. nothing more. stones skipped on still waters. and you'd watch as they'd hop. like magic. defying gravity. they'd break the surface without penetrating the skin.

like people can. like hearts tend to give.

in my mind we were friends from the beginning, but what i'm left with now is much less. when it began that's what we were. just friends. more or less happened but, i never solicited it. more or less might've occurred, but friends. to me that's all we ever were.

there at the heart of everything we've ever presumed to love is the notion that we were mistaken. there at the crux of what life tells us is meaning is the very reason it has none.