Dark Poetry Prose Poetry September 24, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose
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Dark Art
your eyes slit these wrists and kill me so much better
than i ever did
knowing life is a scab, a crusty, bloody seal of a wound. and wanting so much to pick at.
Sad Poems
by the alcoholic poet.
09-24-05 saturday 10:24pm
take. happiness cleaved from clenched fists. give. to. not in. the exile of doomed enchants.
no question was ever born not to be asked. but so few are meant to be answered. falling snowflakes caught on the tongue. dissolved in an instant. absorbed without resolution.
turn. toward. not away from. in the burn of eyes as they open against the stark backdrop that life imposes. fall. because there is freedom in it. leave being caught up to circumstance.
because broken will mend. like movies screens all gone black. but untouched can't.
Poetry
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the art of this
site neatly compiled into two pages.
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(Wanted To Say)
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(human stain)
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she sees God. He doesn't see her.
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sometimes
i think it would be nice to be fragile. then maybe once in a while someone would
be gentle
i feel so lost, especially when the sun shines, that
it accentuates how dark, how dark is my life.