Gasoline Fight

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The budding romantic
Doesn’t know what she wants
But knows hows how she’s supposed to get it
The silver screen has her looking in the wrong places
She’ll find it soon enough
Given time and a chance
It’s not too hard
Give a little
And be okay with less
Learning trust and be trusted
 

Broken down by ages
Falling apart slowly
Waves of time departing
Tiny microscopic changes
Over time withering away infinity
More resources than fathomable
Yet still relentless
Time immemorial has lost track
As not even the universe can remember
No sense of beginning
Even less of an ending

Pretty Broken Roses

Shining from a distance
Obvious and well known beauty
Self aware and glorious
But oh so fragile
Thrust this way and that in an ever-changing unrelenting world
Sharp thorns try to defend from grabby hands
Yet some are unrelenting
This flower chooses so few
But catches the eye of many
Too easily she breaks apart
Unable to contain herself any longer
As blood red petals litter the ground
A beautiful rose
Trying so hard to maintain composure
She has an audience to impress 

Each action takes but a moment
But repercussions mean so much more
A touch or smile
Imprints on memories
Fondly remembered for years to come
Each face comes and goes in a sea of people
Friendly ones stand out from blank stares
Wandering through life seeking connection
Many are too preoccupied to even notice
Few people open their eyes to a world full of individuals
Each one a story
Waiting to be called upon
Some shine brightly
Others more reserved 

“I just thought I heard you laughing,
I thought I heard you sing..
But that was just a dream..”
The dream was just a whisper
a message from the past
of things that stay and linger
and those that go too fast.

It’s always there.
Like a pounding in my head.
An anchor. Holding me down.
Keeping me sane. But am I really?
What happens when I let go?
Will I stay sane?
Or have I been insane this whole time?
I won’t know unless I try.
I feel trapped inside my own mind;
Is there something I don’t know?
Perception filter; I can’t quite see it, but I know it is there.
What is it? Who can tell me? Can anyone?
I know the answer, but I don’t know what it is.
Will I ever?

Time is waxing
Time is waning
Never stops.
Or does it?
Ever wonder
What happens to those moments
that no one remembers?
That seem to slide by?
Lost time?
Is it really?

The wind washes down and away
Far from all the strangers.
Never fear, tomorrow’s near
The wind will keep on blowing

Everything’s perfect, but nobody is,
The world is spinning, you know where it is,
The universe crumbling, and everyone knows,
No one will stop it, because no one knows how,
If anything rings, don’t answer the call,
As nothing is stable, and the cracks will fall.