Dark Poetry Prose Poetry October 30, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

10-30-04 10:30pm saturday

sarcophagus heart. booby-trapped, cursed and sealed up tight with all of its mummies inside.

bent over your live like a prison rookie. mouth agape. ass bleeding.

nothing moves me. nothing penetrates. i am concrete. except, time has dominion. years and years that eventually seep in.

hard and strong and solid, yet porous. like all life is.

we are mumified. thoroughly wrapped in our bandages. perserved as it were in the death poses we have taken.

we are time capsules. waiting on the future to discover us. we are memories, moments caught inside inaminate objects.

time coughs and these lives are the phlegm it spits up.

it is the body. we are the disease that infects it.

so afraid to be cured. to be nothing again.

10-30-04 saturday 11:09pm

cold tumult. burnished grin. melting gracefully into the crevices surrounding your lips.

latent be the clothes dressing you. with pillow case cheeks that softly nestle every kiss.

your silence is your dagger. blunt and serrated. your words are your swagger as you tiptoe up to your sleeping victims.

what dreams they abandon as pain rips them from their slumber are yours to claim as you carve the spiral.

angle upon agnle multiplies until all degrees are satisfied. triangle after triangle clock the cirumferene of the circle.

following myself into a future rooted in the past. who i was constantly cropping up in who i am. the seeds were down there. always. just waiting for a break in the soil. just waiting for the chance.

i was that then. am that now. we thought the corners would turn us. they did. they turned us so much that we ended up back where we started.

we thought progress was something we could make. never thinking it was making us. but it did. and that is what we've become.