Dark Poetry Prose Poetry September 15, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

9-15-03 monday 8:42am brick NJ

the first year is the fastest. the last is the longest. and all those yardsticks inbetween each measure differently given different means. from the womb to the grave is a journey every life must take. how long. how far. are variables neither scientists nor poets can explain.

even a vacuum has a presense. even a blackhole has mass. all matter in the universe interacts. even if only weakly at best. even if only by chance.

i am older today than i was just yesterday, but not because. we age not by years or months. not seconds or minutes. we age by the lives we live and the people that we touch. by the decisions we make. and the ones that are made for us. the things we remember and all those that we forget. this flesh we imbue with pleasure. and this heart that we poison with love. i am older today, but not because.

9-15-03 monday 9:14pm brick nj

don't know. faced with reality. unfettered by life. choices arise. and decisions both frightening and desired.

am i wrong. how could i possibly be right. i feel like i owe it to you to unclutter your life. but at the same time i believe that the choice should be yours to decide.

i just know what i feel. here and now. the future is merely an abstract concept of what might be, but then again might not. here and now is us. and everyone that matters. the future is just a device of the desperate. the fanatics. the future may never happen. here and now is all that we can trust. and even that comes into question sometimes.

if flowers are borne of dirt and desire. and lives are lived by blood and sweat. love must be that rare combination of pain and pleasure. that once had is wanted more again and again.

you tell me what you want and i will try to do it. to go or to stay. but then i don't know if i should listen. if i should just do what i think is best. who i am to spare you. to judge you. how do i decide what's right for this when right has never ventured anywhere close to it.

i don't know what it's like to have a child. let alone to be afraid of losing it. it's a profundity i have pondered, but it's beyond my grasp.

and i don't know why we can't just be friends. simple and innocent. not that i haven't impeded that prgoress. but i know i wasn't alone in wanting more. i'm not innocent. i'm no victim. but neither am i alone in the actions that brought this consequence.

friends would be good. better than you ever thought. sex has it's pleasures to bring. but pleasure is just another drug that i abuse. friendship on the other hand is something far greater than.

there is a passion that exist betwen us stronger than either. i don't know why, but i know that it is. nearer we get the stronger it pulls us. i want it to be innocent, but it doesn't. i want it to be simple and pure like friendship can be, but it doesn't let us.

in a world of broken hearts and loss there are far too many reasons not jeopardize what you know is good in your life. there will be places that you want to go. ones that you'll visit. feelings that they will persisit. but what matters most to you, that's what you must consider.

if yo loved me, the i respect hat. i am thankful that you had. you'll never know how much it meant. language cannot command. but you alluded to it. seemed that you saw in my face when i forgot to keep it hidden. if you loved me then i hope that you enjoyed it, but love is just another one of the many trappings of being human. it's not worth it. i know you know this.

let us be innocent. or as innocent as tattered heart can be. or else we must accept that we stand to lose everything. and i know that's not what you want.

so let us be true to life. true to the reasons that we conceive. when love asks us just how much let us answer her immediately. that we love enough to care more for that other someone. let us love them enough to leave them be.

9-15-03 monday 11pm brick NJ

flowers and eyes are not that different. they both bloom. they each open to find the world around them is different than they had expected. they're both symbols of love and evveryone it leaves untouched. like blinking. like trying to pretend that what you're doing hasn't any consequences. knowing there are so many. caring if, but drawn to still. like the tide to the moon. you hopelessly tug against it, only to find that without it you are motionless.

i want to make it easy for you to let it go. let it fester as it must for the time that it would and then die like all life does. i guess i should. i suppose that's what life is demanding of. only easier said than done. to be that unselfish. to love enough to lose everything you've wanted for the sake of. i think that i can do that. if i was only certain that i should. if i could only be certain that is what's best for the both of us. or either one.

inscribed like time in all matter, the days we contrive steadily become the lives we shatter. tattooed in the flesh like ink and needles. that which we love is not what we need. that which loves us not neccessarily what should be. i hate it. every aspect about it. the tragedy and the circumstance that shroud otherwise contented lives in the darkness it has waiting for us.

it's time i guess, though i wish it weren't. time to love harder than love has ever loved. time again to take those words i peddle and enforce the meanings they endeavor.

i could ask you if i should, and maybe you'd agree. i could ask you what, but i'm not sure that you know any better than me what if anything that could mean. it seems the end has been calling to us since the beginning of. i've felt it. i've despised the concept. but these worlds we construct. these ways we use to justify what we cannot.

friends we could've been if friends is what we did want. but there's too much more to need in every instance. in every chance to reach out and grab what we want to have. it's involuntary like breathing. you can hold your breath, but it won't keep. you can deny the need, but it persists in your thoughts.

it burns on your mind like an ember that never forgets the fire that once engulfed it. it lives in your flesh like a feeling time cannot neglect. it might just be me. that i'm more wong now that i've ever been. it might be that i owe you the chance to leave. to be unselfish. to let love truly be that which it is best at. caring, but not needing. it hurts, but has its purpose.