Dark Poetry Prose Poetry April 4, 2006 Dark Poetic Prose
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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.
4-04-06 10:53pm tuesday
she leaned in and took the smug out of my silence. smooth as a vulture's neck slides through a carcass. empty as the cadaver may appear, they still find something edible inside it.
there's only one thing she could ever be. and that's herself.
it was dark, so dark, but i could see every curve. every line that drew her into this world. and every one that would take her out of it. just when most she wanted to stay.
she was born a desert. echoing the lost of all who had entered her. but she'd always felt more like an ocean. that she could always go deeper.
that there was a bottom she must reach.
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the art of this
site neatly compiled into two pages.
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(Wanted To Say)
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she sees God. He doesn't see her.
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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.