Never Enough Time

Sure, I believe in you.
Mostly, I believe that you believe
in all the promises you make,
in all the possibilities.

But there's not enough time,
there's never enough time.
Soon we'll grow up.

I'll stop believing
that we'll spend a weekend watching fireworks,
that we'll sleep under the stars,
that you'll love me forever.

We'll grow up
and we'll forget about the time
we played tag in the grass like kids again,
the time we walked along the beach,
the time we slept, wrapped in each other's arms.

I only wish
it could stay
this simple.

"Small Town": a poem made from book pages

Toward the cellar door,

down the stairs.

Basement light rising up on the town.

Painfully and perfect,

building lights glowed with

flashing dark metal.

His heart glowing

through the window.

Silencio

mind buzzing with absent thought,
there are no demons here.

enveloped by silence,
I lie on the roof top
dreaming
that the world is nothing
but what I see.

there are no demands, no destruction
disguised as soft whispers.

the nothingness surrounds
my body, my soul.

death must be beautiful.

Just the Beginning

A soft glow,

a reminder of darkness

slides across the silk.

The shine of silver

glitters in the rays of moonlight.

Blind eyes

watch the fading stars,

cheap copies of reality.

Nothing here is beautiful.

Alien eyes prompt: Lifeless Form

Emotionless being,
displayed in
a glass box.

They take turns
spilling clear acid
from glossy shapes
on their faces.

Images
of the lifeless form
crowd the walls
as they
worship it.

Resting on
lined benches,
they kneel before
their leader who
refers to the being as
"God."

Wilted White Roses

when i dream

it's of

wilted white roses,

running through

grass fields looking up at

the clouds saying:

"I see an elephant."

it's of

Christmas mornings

in a white house,

jumping in

the mud

and dancing

in the rain.

when I wake,

I lay staring at

the blank ceiling

silently praying that I fall

back asleep.

Three Words

The pain she'd caused;
the confusion
the doubt

the abandonment:

A razorblade buried deep

in his heart.
Still, she smiled.

Flash forward: open heart surgery,
the blade is removed
though the scar remains,
dried blood after the battle.

Eyes opened,
slate cleaned.
Her realization dependent
on his three words.

Flash backward:
"You're worth it."

Reality TV

imagine:
a camera to record
every moment
of your life.

every ambition,
every regret,
every celebration.
the world
sees it all.

imagine:
privacy as a luxury.
everyone
knows your name.

no secrets,
no lies,
no imagination.

the camera 
becomes the ambition,
fame becomes
the dream.