Dark Poetry Prose Poetry September 29, 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.
09-29-05 thursday 10:37pm
truant moments leave us searching for. those children of children. nesting dolls in the heart. unfound, but not lost. the difference being how well they hide.
if i taste it when the night settles in deep enough. that yesterday becomes real again. and for all i need to feel this is all i can. there need be no pages ripped. nor ink inflamed. just softly as the pillow hugs stifled pain.
groans the debate in your head. useless battles waged. victory is lying not in your happiness, but rather in your acceptance of its abesense.
final words skewer the moments. as we became them. and after. it only keeps coming. goodbye. again and again and again.
Poetry
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the art of this
site neatly compiled into two pages.
Thinking
(Wanted To Say)
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(Just Words)
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404 (error page)
Four Oh For
(human stain)
Such Unusual Ideas Caught In Dead Eyes
(Suicide)
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What (I Want)
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Why? Part 2
Why Not?(for scooter)
When?(for mcdoofus)
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we have to go back!
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she sees God. He doesn't see her.
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Awesome Costumes for Halloween
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.