Dark Poetry Prose Poetry December 7, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

12-07-03 sunday 9am brick NJ

there's always something to write about. always a broken heart even without. lost love is not the only way that hearts do break. just life is enough. this lonely life breaks it every day.

since we met a lot has happened. but nothing has changed. i've always known the limits. this only reinforced them. i've always known loneliness. this only amplified the effects.

12-07-03 sunday 9pm brick

if i am alone. so be it. let me wear it like a shroud. not proud, but neither ashamed. microscopic presense in an infinite universe. one small person amongst billions. so many of them. and yet still alone. so many people. and still. and i'm not the only one. there are those even moreso. but who cares what other lives suffer when they're so busy with their own.

maybe i do. maybe i wish that i was the only one to feel like this. but i can't save them. can't even save myself.

if the tiger's heart beats loud and strong, but the fawn's quiet and meek. only time hears our heartbeats. so amongst ourselves we are equally as weak.

paper hearts all scribbled upon. phrases and doodles. the ink bleeds through. indents and scars. you can scratch it out. you can erase it, but evidence remains.

paper hearts. fold them into different shapes. origami cranes with wings that flap. and let them fly away if they can.

paper hearts. their own tears cause them to fall apart. isn't that the way. just the way life is. so conceited in all its ironic little pretenses.

paper hearts. just a place for life to scribble upon. fill us full of moments and then laugh as they bleed through to the other side. no place left to write. laugh as the tears we cry undo us.

not all hearts are made of paper. but such is mine. come. give to me your thoughts. watch them stain me. so that you can leave better off.

12-07-03 sunday 10pm brick NJ

how to say goodbye when it's always been begging that question. if i only knew. well then, i could've been a better friend to you.

you're not here. not gone. just somewhere else.

i always was one to let the songs play out. to their finish. i always was one to let the story happen. just try to capture a few moments before it's decdied.

if the night dances i can't join her. if the night sends her telegrams that call people back to their real lives. how can i.

friends. that's such an ambiguous statement. especially given the circumstance. friends might've meant a whole lot more if now it didn't mean that much less.

what is there left for me to do. now that the bottles have all been comsumed and the pages all printed. what is there left for us to do. be friends? it's just too much more than for either of us to tame.

i wanted. truly did. so much more real than i ever imagined it could've been. but i know your world. i've seen it often from the outside. and i wish. god i wish there was some way to justify.

myself. my misery all too kind. i'm given to lay back and believe that this is just how i. i'm given to let it ring. pretend that i don't want to answer even when i do. it could've been different i guess. in another dimension. in a world we've never met. but here it's not. and here is all we've got. here is where we are. like it or not. here. just like this. here. now. this tree. branches that can't support. hours that absorb.

some other life maybe. but not this one. maybe in some other dimension this lonely heart has freinds. maybe in some other dimension this lonely heart knows what love is. but not in this one.