Boxed up memories
Collect cobwebs in my attic
Where the ghosts of yesteryear
Come out to play
Euphoric nostalgia
Revives innocence
Cloaked in pure, white satin.
Brittle photographs of birthday parties
Wide eyed gazes
Crooked teeth
A raging jealousy of porcelain dolls
Ageless in time's gripping noose
A melancholic fantasy;
Infinite youth.

Drinking
                                                                                                       *Smoking
                                      *******
                                                                                                                                        Partying
                                                                        Dancing
                                                                                                                    Making out

            I don't understand what it's all about.*

                                                            Standing around a party devoid
                                                            Of any fun connection;
                                                            Annoyed by the blatant lack of direction
                                                            Among my peers.  My college years
                                                            Are being spent disassociating myself
                                                            From those hell bent on doing nothing of
                                                            Importance.

Anna, please be okay.
Life is too rich a chance to flush it all away,
if it isn't already too late, I implore you to delay;
Death will always be waiting for you, there's no need to rush for it today.

Anna, there is much to see,
much to learn, much to be.
I know you're a Soul in duress,
but please don't let that end the rest;
express it and get it off your chest
and then try to build on that and move on to some new Quest.

Each Soul in this Reality is tried in it's own Fire
from the moment of Birth until the surrender to Death;
Life is a constant and abrasive Journey, an opportunity, a chance, even somewhat of a Test.

Anna, please be okay.
I hope it isn't already too late,
You have friends who truly care; who will listen,
even here, on the coldness of the Internet.

Anna, please be okay.
I enjoy your writings; what you have to say.
Your perspective is unique and your style is entrancing.
There is such great potential here in this Life for you.

If you're still there, please, be strong;
you owe it to yourself not to die so young.

I have a tendency to give up.
Not because I don't care, it's just because I don't care enough.
So when I sit some 10 rows back, curtains open, fade to black,
and I see your gams creep from stage left like that,
there's a symphony that runs through me when I see the spotlight.
Something like, with hypnotizing might, you take me elsewhere as I gaze at your sight.
The power you have over me, and you don't even knows it.
Makes me grin that I'm safe for now hiding this secret but truth is, I want to expose it.

Keep dancing. That's all I think when I think of you.
Two powerful words that describe the truth and how to get it through.
Life is as you take it. And your constant flash of whites reminds me to never forget:
'There are two sides to everything", but I haven't seen the greener grass yet.
And it's probably on your side of that picket fence.
Devil smirk, woman's worth, with a child innocence.
Of course, I mean, I trip over the right words to dish out,
Haven't been too fond of broads lately and you're one of which I can't miss out.
See, you're that I'mgoingtoregretnottryingharder type of dame,
oozing with beauty like you can't keep it contained.
But if that were radioactive waste, I'd still want a taste.
Let me bathe in that divine cesspool and show you how to drown,
I don't mean it literally, I just mean I'll hold you down.
Don't feed me sympathy, simply tell me don't come around,
And I'll pack my thoughts within poems that are internet-bound.

Time grins awkwardly at me,can't see the joke
but only time can see the smoke that leaks out through the backs of old cracked hands,that hold the stubs of cigarettes as if letting go,will let time know the end has come,
for some it will as minutes climb up on the hill of hours past.
Only second chances last and are written on the dials,posted tightly into files and filed away.
Then the day filters slowly away into the flittering, skittering shadows that we fear.
The heart beats faster as it slows and only time knows why,
Time drags feet and then it flies
never dies
lives forever
severs links
never thinks but
time links us all.

my fingerprints are aching already,
with the unrecoverable concepts.
i want to kiss this moment,
taste the salts of passion pits upon
my swelling tongue.
it is all gone, and my eyelashes stick together
far too long.
arteries are filled with sugar and sad songs,
and i know i will never feel like this again.
hands to the clouds,
i’m alive for right now.