Dark Poetry Prose Poetry December 6, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

12-06-03 8pm saturday brick NJ

i feel just like i'm dying. chin on my chest. bitter taste on my tongue that's been there since i can't remember when. i feel just like i'm dying. blood standing still. effort to every breath. i am dying. i will. it's just taking so long. it's just taking too long.

when your tomorrow comes you'll swallow it whole. feel it in your throat like warm chocolate. don't bite down. just let it melt in your throat.

when my tomorrow comes i'll push it aside like a cigarette butt. burnt up receptacle for empty promises of death.

every day comes just like a song on pause. i can stop the playback. drown myself in silence. but the music is still there. and every day is. it plays. always does again. plays against my heart like sandpaper. slowly rubbing away. someday they'll be nothing left. until then, it's just the quiet ache and waiting for when.

and i've grown. grown so old without time to excuse. i've known. known so many reasons to forget yourself. whine. whine as i do. label me if you choose. mock these rhymes as rhetoric. platitudes. selfish ladders to my descent. mark them as you see fit. i don't really care for your opinion. i don't really care what anyone's is.

let the snow fall and pretend that it's softer than. make the world white again as if virginity can be recaptured. if it could be. i wouldn't want the sex back. what does that matter. i'd want the love back. i'd want to not remember how. every hope. every happiness finds a new way to obliterate itself. i'd want not to know how good it felt. and how it was to watch it go.

wear your sunrises like the tuxedo of the american dream. happiness all woven into its every stitch. and pretend to be my friend. pretend to understand this. you can't. i hope you never do.

what you know at such i can only guess. what you know at such i can only look upon and try to dismiss those thoughts in my head.

tomorrow has never been my friend. and tonight neither. none of them. not a single second. alway choking on the life that i've been given. if i could give it away to someone else who wants it. i would, but it doesn't work like that. if i could forget you as i should. realize that friends are something of the past. when i was young and life still bred in this blood.

that's over now. there's nothing left except this coffin that contains my presense. that's over now. the life i once lived. it's been done. i'm dead. just waiting. still waiting to be buried. waiting for the world to acknowledge.