two girls in a movie theater
one glances over to the other
smile on her face, light in her eyes
she glances down to see her hand
should she grab it?
she does not grab it.
but what if she did?

When we're sitting in the theater,
watching the movie of the day.
All I want is to take her gentle hand,
and lead her far away.
Far away to where the reasons,
she said we could never be,
give way to the connection,
between her and me.

But I can't.

I can't because she said so;
she said it will never work.
She doomed it from the beginning,
because of all the irk.
All the irk that might happen,
if the "inevitable" does occur.
She wouldn't believe what I tell my friends,
when they ask me about her.

What she doesn't realize about me and her
is that things will never go cold.
But for now I'll just sit back, relax,
and watch our film unroll.

What will become of me?
or better yet, what could have become of me?
At times, I stare out at the world
from screened and barred windows
contemplating alternate futures for myself.
The “what-if’s” and “could have been’s” taunt me,
causing me to flirt with the idea
of things being different.


I seem to forget what actually is,
unappreciative of what actually has become of me,
of what I have already become,
overlooking the things I’ve done right.

It’s time I changed focus.
Transfix upon the ever-changing present,
not concentrating on what never was,
and no longer entertaining worries of what will be,
or what will not.