Dark Poetry Prose Poetry December 30, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

12-30-04 4:30pm thursday

i will sit still and silent. a statue of my former self.

they will look and see me. and never know the difference.

they may touch or hold me. but i am no colder than i've ever been.

i will sit still and silent.

listening. watching.

as they interact with my ghost.

12-30-04 thursday 8:10pm

i miss when things actually used to happen. more than words and crosseyed dreams.

our feet spitting sand. our skin ironing the sheets.

when gravity wasn't only for falling, but also for being caught.

with blue stars in your stare. and poetry in your every pause.

i still look for it. but it's gone.

9:20pm 12-30-04 thursday

it's only tomorrow that i fear. and yesterday i grieve. cold widow that i am. all my loves die young. all my memories are eulogies.

i can't cry those porcelain tears that shatter as the hit the cheek.

i can only wait. like a page in a book that's been dogeared. can only wait with my cover closed as that temporary fold becomes permanent crease.

it's only loneliness paving its roads. building elabtorate highways under my skin to carry this emptiness quicker through my soul.

i can't break like i should. as wood splits. and metal bends.

can only wait. counting down every heartbeat till the end.

12-30-04 10:21pm thursday

we steer. front wheel drive. the night a mudslide.

we revolve. clockwise. life the hours gone by.

leave me here. i've always been. the truth pounding me in waves. trust is an ocean. even when you know how to swim, it's hard to keep from drowning in it.

i am grief. it's embodiment. didn't ask to be. but was chosen.
i am your lover. and your friend.

your everything you think you want that you don't have.

but it isn't true.

the oak tree begins with only an acorn. the symphony starts with just the very first chord.

i am lost. i am found.

it matters not where we are. but how.