Dark Poetry Prose Poetry August 29, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

8-29-03 friday 2:50pm brick NJ

what you thought i was.
all that you assumed
could ever open up
or go inside of you.

can't be. won't happen.
want and action
divided by a million
miles of insecurities.

spiral up.
spiral out and in.
drink your make yourself
human medicine,
but it's all pretense
and getting high.

it's just to stifle
the echos when
loneliness screams.

it's just a body.
just flesh sweat and cum
smothering what i don't
want you to see.

it's too late.
i'm done.
love is not welcome
in this life.

8-29-03 friday 8:41pm brick NJ

i never realized how alone i felt until i suddenly tried not be.

waking up early in the morning. starting the day with heavy doses of caffine. don't feel much of anything. just like a robot doing the job it's been programmed to do. the computer i use not an extension of me, but rather i an extension of it. the servers i connect to my spouses. the websites we create together our children. this is life alone.

then night comes and i am faced with just one choice. get stupid drunk and wish i hadn't the next day. or stay sober and endure my own presense until i can finally convince sleep to take me away again.

the night has come and i am drinking soda and water. smoking. the lcd screen glowing. the muted tv casting shadows. the music off. the keys clicking so loudly. the night has come and i am sober and i hate myself this way. all day long a robot. all night so fucking human. no matter which option i choose. this is life alone. especially when you try not to be.

wondering am i an alcoholic or just weak? is there a difference? wondering how i used to be, not really able to remember anymore that defiant and solitairy little girl who took every miserable minute and revelled in it like it was a drug. no need for any other kinds. walking alone in the middle of the night with just music and thoughts. and actually enjoying it. or maybe i'm remembering wrong. but now i enjoy nothing. only find every way i can to forget myself. to not have to notice that i am alive.

i think that i used to hate myself. really hate myself. but that i found pleasure in it.

now i don't hate myself anymore and i can't deal with it. cause now i want myself to be happy, but i am unable to be.

8-29-03 friday 11:50pm brick NJ

the night is quiet and relentless. like laying in bed wanting to sleep so much, but you don't. or can't. or won't. maybe never again you think. not without something to make you. not until all these habits you've borrowed from finally come to collect on your debts to them.

the night is quiet and relentless. when cold beer on your tongue tastes like love and like death. when tired isn't what you need from it. and no amount of writing can pull all of it out of your head. something's always left and grows larger than you again.

daytime peddles its lessons like sidewalk rolexes. cheap knockoffs of the real thing that will only last til you get home again. stay who you are or forget. choose not to choose and the choice will decide for you. the days are long and bright and all puffed up with that sense of who i really am. so ashamed. so eager to lose again.

this life. this empricial indication of means nothing more than watching time. as it passes. so sure of itself. that it always must. pushing and pulling on this flesh. drawing lines where there once were none. causing new skin to grow over where open wounds once bled. so definite and unaffected by anything. only the cause of. never a reaction. this life in all its chaffed and vile absurdity has nothing to gauge itself as really having been. no value outside of the funnel cloud its constantly spinning. no real presense other than the shadows that it casts.

the night is quiet and relentless. like long conversations inside your head. when nothing is good and nothing is bad. you have no excuses, but you still want to end it. those pills crop up in your thoughts. what will they do. make it better or only make it worse. will i really die this time or only wish again that i had.

and as you're lying there in bed waiting for the sleep that's been snubbing you, you think overdose. can i really. and she there across the hall. would it be worse for her if i should succeed or if i should fail. can i wait. and even if i can, will i be able. even without a reason not to, do i have the nerve. cuz i know that life won't ever let me leave it easy. i know that just like the living it'll have to hurt.

the night is quiet and relentless. like ringing phones when the music is loud and your head is thundering. quiet and relentless like not answering when. like life is. like time makes it. like how the daytime preaches to you not to want everything that the darkness craves. like how people tend to want just what they need, but never need what they want. like how people tend to be just who they are, but never admit. like how they ask you to let them in never thinking about how the day will surely come when they'll want out. how you'll feel then.