Dark Poetry Prose Poetry September 9, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

09-09-05 friday 8:31am

another day to fondle soft. with fragile expectations. and hunger stalled.

counting toward nothing but.

no tomorrows. only nights that fall like feathers from. wings in flight.

turning down of mildewed sheets. and matted pillows upon which stones now rest.

no eyelids in the way. no furious darkness. only eyes that do not see.

09-09-05 friday 10:46pm

fervent torches in the heart burn brightest when all is dark.

time. stern and stoic. the oldest tree in the forest. her branches climb us as those leaves do fall. minute by minute soft flesh hardening into callous bark.

tragedy hits dull and numb. a match sparked, but unignited.

eyes tell their stories to the mind. but that's all they are. pages. sheets stained in the blood dead lives have shed.

stories for the the shelves to clutch. where deep in memory their hard covers remain closed gathering dust.

not real. not life as i've come to know it. no faces. no fingers. no sense of any except isolation and hopelessness.

no change to find. the story's written. the epilogue inked. sign my name to the back cover and put it back in its place.

i've read it. i've writen it. and now it's done.

a story. that's all it's ever been. full of anti-heros and comic-tragedies. a story that ends without resolution. and full of characters who can't change.

the end. that's all that's left to see.