Dark Poetry Prose Poetry September 30, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

9-30-03 tuesday 12:30pm brick NJ

it's all gravity's fault. gravity's and mine. call off the trial. i want to confess. send the jury home. i won't be judged again.

take this sorrow of mine and drink it. poisoning your blood with my manic depressive gifts. like the words we say slaughtering all the ones we were too afraid. gather the bodies. dig the graves.

tell yourself the sunshine is enough. just need one more day to know how good it gets. just one more night to make you wish it wasn't.

9-30-03 12:55pm tuesday brick NJ

these moments that befriend us are only symptoms of a disease gone undiagnosed. when you're that close i can feel the connection pulling. it plays me like a violin. i feel the long notes aching in my chest. but what to do then. resist or submit. and submission hasn't served me well. not outside the confines of sex. and this is or was supposed to be better than that. or at least it was until i made it a point ot make it less.

it's not me. it's not you either. it's just that combination that scares me. makes me afraid someday soon you'll have a reason to hate me. that i could be why everything you love about life is gone. it's not me. it's not you. it's just us. because love is for the young that the trusting. it's long since given up on the likes of us.

9-30-03 tuesday 9:25pm Brick NJ

sometimes it's not the words. it's their absense. the sound of breathing. the notes hidden in the singers shadow. some nights it's impossible to like yourself. or anyone you know. but funny how, love never falters in those situations.

if you think you hear me crying. i'm not. but if you see me smiling that's when you should worry about me. cause that must mean that something is giving me a reason to. and it just shouldn't be.

fragile as that first moment of eye contact at the close love's kiss. runaway now or submit yourself to your condition. cause you won't have the choice to leave again until you've slept under every dirty overpass and sat and counted each and every minute for at least a hundred days.

you only get that choice once. just when you are so wide open that every breath you took was roar. just in that one tiny second after the lips release and your life was forced to absorb. runaway then or stay for the duration. you could've run then, but if you didn't. now it's a long long journey back to learning not to love again.

9-30-03 9:58pm brick NJ tuesday

are you just going to sit back and watch me destroy myself. perhaps even assist. is it at least a good show to be watching this. are you amused by the spectacle. would you reccomend others should see it.

life is marginal at best. dictated by equations no heart can prove. exponentially smaller than the largest of it's sorrow. love is factor x. that variable unaccounted for that destroys the whole experiment.

the night never dies because it never really does live. it was born a ghost and has only always haunted. and the sun never really shines. it's just an illusion. so many eyes looking for it that it appears to actually happen. so much darkness that minds begin to imagine that there must be an opposite. but there isn't.

i had hoped to write what it is i've been attempting. all this while. but all these thoughts are turning colors and falling off my branches. the season is changing again. the bark is peeling and the tender wood beneath is rotting. the nights are getting longer and it's so hard to see.

i had wanted to explain for so long, but still i am stifled. all the songs have grown repetitious and i can no longer stand to listen. the nights have gotten so much longer and all the leaves have fallen.