If I had it my way
I'd spend each day by your side
and each night in your arms
for the rest of my days
for the rest of yours;
No quarrel shall last
more than an hour
no tears shall be shed
out of sadness;
But most of all
no longer shall your heart
ache for me at any time
for I shall always be there
when you need me most.

you are my wonder,
you

all i can not figure out,
you

all i think about,
you

last night i dreamt about,
you

last week i lost,
you

this week i want,
you

my hope is all,
you

my life is,
you

light at the end of my tunnel,
you

star in the day sky,
you

savior of mine,
you

heart breaker,
you

one who loved me,
you

wanted to marry,
you

didn't want to lose,
you

had a choice didn't choose,
you

fell in love with,
you

had no option but,
you

saved me from defeat,
you

stuck me on repeat,
you

held my breath around,
you

let me heart be free beside,
you

wrote a poem just for,
you

sang a song for,
you

cried all night about,
you

died inside from,
you

caught myself after,
you

fell back for,
you

took for granted,
you

regret,
you

love,
you

miss,
you

need,
you

want,­
you

you
you
you.

Every moment, we are wasting away-
Our poor, dejected ambitions
Float empty
Atop a sea of partially sane intentions
Kept by a god
With a pension for deceit.
Tick tock,
Crazy never comes on time-
And three sneezes mean an unsuspected
Guest. Dilapidated hours
Wear thin
As they desperately reach to cover
The long, convoluted skeleton
Of youth.
Remnants of the past prevail,
Buried deep beneath
Cedar floors and $50 graveyard slots,
In all it's half attainable glory,
Strewn out across
A marble coffin,
Like heavy dice
Waiting to tumble down
Into reality.
The old bell tower,
Cracks and screeches
Her unrequited laments
To the indifferent sky-
Every evening at 5:01.
With each hollow ring,
Age seeps through our pores,
Mixing in and diluting our dreams,
Sinking down into the deepest crevice of our
Contorted being. Tick
Tock, time can only dance if there's a rhythm:
The beating of our hearts
Sounds on, vibrating off
The hollow cavity
Which should hold something
Living. Nothing's real here,
As our insignificant lives
Race each other down the dim and slippery
Hallway that is life.
Until sooner or later,
One by one,
We all lose our footing
And fall down the rabbits hole
To meet something like
Death- the only evidence that we were ever
Alive.
Hour hands reach out from their miniature sphere:
A cyclical world full of half past ten
And white empty spaces between
Vacant numbers,
Grasping our warm
Pulsing bodies,
And pulling us closer
Towards something almost like The End-

Tick tock,
Russian Roulette is only lucky
Until it's over.