Dark Poetry Prose Poetry Bovember 14, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose
hopeless as the last leaf in autumn when all the rest have already fallenNovember 2005
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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.
Monday, November 14, 2005 10:46 PM
the green glass on the black river moves. with the footsteps of the current. the taste of yesterday in every minute that comes. it never ends. it just stops listening to us.
the taste of salvation is bitter. especially when your only hope lies in losing everything.
the color of the flower changes, but the stem stays green regardless. the source never changes. just what we project from it.
the moon in the window shows brighter than ever, but it's still not the sun. wounds may hide under blankets. but can heal only under bandages.
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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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we have to go back!
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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.