Dead Watch

She wears the masks
of a thousand lives
Hourglass sand empty
there's no one running along side
She waits for sighs
halfheartedly believing
Visions only confuse
too much is real
Not enough fantasy
Deep sighs
never quite fill the space
Dead watch in a box
just waiting to be worn

Blocked reflection

I only sleep here,
a window of a person.
By day I'm the transparent friend,
by night the ref on the sidelines.
I only have minimal soul left,
am I a stepback ghost
or a memory of what once was?
By night I'm the person buying time to waste.

silent ramble

Too many random thoughts
wants, emotions, neuroses
Too little time for it all
Give and receive?
How's that work?