Dark Poetry Prose Poetry September 23, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

10pm 9-23-04 thursday

it's time to. it is. the wind and the moon both agree. it's that eruption. when everything you've plugged up makes its violent exit.

it's your heart howling like a wolf lost in the darkness. a long black pause between that last beat and the next.

i can't be what you want me to.

and what i want from you, i never even bothered to ask.

cuz i know people are who they are. no use waiting for them to change. ain't going to happen.

it's time to. maybe is has been for far too long. egos are fragile. they don't take well to disappointment.

i fought all day with myself. that debate's still raging. who to believe. the heart or the head. the knowledge or the hope.

don't guess i'll ever know for certain. so i'll just take my trip down that slope. better to fall quick than to stumble down it slow.

9-23-04 11:16pm thursday

it's come to this. and much moreso it's bound to go beyond it.

read me since. i am pages. nothing more. perhaps a little less.

i'm not a person. not that kind. those who live. trees that grow from the ground. i'm not a real person. roots that dig. leaves that catch.

and i wish. wish that i could've been. that which the world takes to its breast.

don't tell me now how i should feel. what i should want. don't tell me what i deserve until you've first lived some time wearing this heart.

i wish you well. always have. what more can i offer. i take these people as they happen. and try not to miss them too much when they're gone.

i take those moments like lungs do breath. always in need of another, but uncertain whether they will get.

i wanted it to be everything it once conspired to, but when it chose otherwise what's a person to do.

i just almost felt secure. that you weren't lying.

i guess we're not to blame. time is the one at fault. for all the many ways it slips into otherwise selaed vaults.

i don't know. cuz it was a long time ago when anything still mattered. i feel just like autumn. like all the leaves are dying.

it's too late i guess. we lost because we chose it. we didn't have to. we just picked. this side or the other. and now we're stranded.

there's plenty to love about anyone, but not that much to trust.

there's plenty to want from anyone, but not much you'll get.

there's all the love in the world to give to anyone, but they might not want it.