Dark Poetry Prose Poetry December 18, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

12-18-04 saturday 9:05pm

fill me up with what you are.
fill this empty bucket.
mend me. plug the holes in.

that i might hold something
other than all this emptiness.

but what can i do.
now that all these years learning
to live without have finally sunk in.

and rusted through
the handle you once held me with.

just turn me over. upside down.
so that nothing else can ever
fall inside of me nor leak out.

12-18-04 saturday 10:41pm

you missed me. missed me again. you wanted to i guess.

there's color in your indifference. colors i've never.

it's not really what i wanted. not what i imagined i could need.

turning cartwheels in my head. landing on my shoulders.

everyone knows what i've always wanted. but no one wants to give it.

i don't blame them.

how to know when a life should end?

how to know when all its resources have been exhausted.

when all hope truly is dead.

all my roles. all my responsibilities to them. who's responsible for when.

when i need a new reason to keep lingering. but there's only the smoke there with me at the ceiling.

only memories of people who once occupied now empty stools. and armies of glasses that once held their last defense.

i'm responsible. for their success. but who's responsible for me when. when it doesn't matter to me anymore what happens to them.

i'm tired of building. done with making. if i'm the bricks. who or what is the mortar.

they want. they need.they pile me high and i sway. not knowing should i crumble or should i wait.

i'm bricks without mortar. stacked high.

i'm a wall with nothing to hold it together.

they want. they need. but i don't know how much higher i can climb until it all topples over.

everyone knows what i need. they tell me, but they don't offer.

everyone thinks they know me. so where are they. where are they now. that i need them to remind me.