Dark Poetry Prose Poetry November 9, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

11-09-03 sunday 8:21pm brick NJ

if i say that i have died a thousand times. maybe more. that there are different dimensions of death. heavenly and hellish ones. and a plethora of variations. if i look at you and can only see my own hesitations reflected back. am i jaded or just too well educated. if i listen to you and know the words meanings, but still disbelieve them. is it the language or the content. am i misinterpreting or hearing what isn't said.

my life opens up to swallow me whole. my mood's jaws bite down hard upon the flesh of love. this life. these friends. all these ditches to fall in. beds to go fetal upon. roads to lose us. sheets to wash.

my dark fades to light. breaks open like an egg cracking. golden membrane of life exploding. a puddle of could have been. a betrayal of flesh.

this ice cools to heat. smooth and vibrant waves of touching. maneuvering the skin. and muscles underlying. oceans of emptiness repeatedly swallowing a life.

i'll tell you that i love you when it's over and i'm certain that i had, but its threat has passed. i'll be your friend. clean and easy when all feeling has been taken from me. when pleasure goes through rigormortis. when orgasm's corpse has been buried. when i can focus on anything else besides this dying sensation.

the feeling skates across my thoughts. sharp blades of duality leave deep scars. frozen in the ice that is my trust. watery tattoos of the damage done. the notion proves itself. i need not. sadness grows like equations. blackboard chalky quotients. the derivative of alone. dusty, white and sketchy like every moment is. fill my head with choking. then vanish into nothing. a sweep of the arm. a heavy breath. the shadow of where it was once written all that's left.

how do you sleep at night? is it well? how do you close your eyes. black stages for dreaming or cracked helmets that can't keep out the light.

how do you see? prismic eyes collecting the colors of the world's light. or shadows consuming. how do we see. how can we when we're blind?

i'll not write for the heart again. tired condition of too much having been. i'll neither collect nor question the petals as they continue to beckon. does or does not a fruitless confusion. memory falling in my head like rain. fat molecules bloated with all the chances i felt, but could not retain. softening the ground where i tread. coating my feet with the soil of where i never should have been.

tell me now how love is. how it happened. in this. in us. if it ever did. tell me now that it means as much as. like i'm alive. that you're not lonely. that you don't need. that this is something greater than. tell me how. how you expect me to believe.