Dark Poetry Prose Poetry February 20, 2006 Dark Poetic Prose
hopeless as the last leaf in autumn when all the rest have already fallen| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |
| 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |
| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 |
| 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 |
 |
Poetry 2006
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
 |
Poetry 2005
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2004
February 2004
March 2004
April 2004
May 2004
June 2004
July 2004
August 2004
September 2004
October 2004
November 2004
December 2004
January 2003
February 2003
March 2003
April 2003
May 2003
June 2003
July 2003
August 2003
September 2003
October 2003
November 2003
December 2003
Dark Art
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.
2-20-06 monday 11:46 PM
Time knew us as well as we knew it. In our vacuums. In our self-perpetuating circumcatnces.
As if we were born knowing what to want. What would want us.
Or that these diseases we pick up along the way are only purgatories upon our path to heaven.
And we could atone. And be forgiven. Of every sin. Paint ourselves so weak that we deserve acceptance. Chastise time for its lack of termperance.
How far it is to that rendevous. With. So strong at one moment. And then so weak. As though nothing matters except the outcome.
I don't feel lost. But I know that I'll ever be found. So I must be.
Poetry
Home Page
Year 2003
Year 2004
Year 2005
Year 2006
RSS Feed
 Sad/Dark T-Shirts |
Dark Art
Dark
Art/Sad Art 1
Dark Art 2
the art of this
site neatly compiled into two pages.
Thinking
(Wanted To Say)
Feeling
(Just Words)
Always (You)
404 (error page)
Four Oh For
(human stain)
Such Unusual Ideas Caught In Dead Eyes
(Suicide)
Who? (To Whom)
What (I Want)
Why? Part 1
Why? Part 2
Why Not?(for scooter)
When?(for mcdoofus)
How?(for myself)
Extras
Old Poems
we have to go back!
God Jesus Satan
she sees God. He doesn't see her.
Savatoons Web Design
Deep Thoughts for the Day
Awesome Costumes for Halloween
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.