B 1d
She is an airhead with enough buoyancy for the both of us
I've got the string tied round my finger so I don't forget it
As she lazily drifts on haphazard breezes, I try to shoot them
Teeter-totter talking about weather, sports, and partisan politics
Because when gusts come that nylon noose keeps me above ground
But only if I spit enough hot air to keep her wispy attention
Else I sprint the risk of her pine cone thicket absence
And I left my shoes with the last one
What I mean is, you are a safety net that I had no intention of casting
A Saturday morning cartoon that makes toast out of my tragedies
Buttered in the relief of freedom from prolonged desperation
I tie a second knot to be sure
B 1d
Promise me you'll get help, okay?

Should your blood ever boil within you
Should the heat leave your extremities
Should your breathing become quickened
Should a nervous sweat bead your face

Should you struggle to get through
Should you stand before Hades
Should you try and fail to defend
Should you feel a disgrace

Promise me you'll get help, okay?
  1d B
Anthony Emmi
Pitter patter, heart beats faster.
Laying alone again.
Time drags on, time has past her.
From a long ago sin.

Anxiety grows stronger.
A feeling of deep dispair.
A love may be lost.
Am I the only one to care?

In the end it was me.
My faults are mine to bare.
Could I have helped them.
Would she even care?

An illness within me.
Has ruined quite a lot.
Without it would I be me?
That, I think not.

A cure there is none.
But now I understand.
The work has begun.
With Gods helping hand.

A.Emmi 03/10/18
  1d B
happy international poetry day!!
  4d B
She Writes
Ink floods these pages
Words cause more harm than good
Opening up old wounds
decipher feelings misunderstood

Reminiscing lost love
Analyzing mistakes made
Drowning in past feelings
Remembering all who betrayed

Putting pen to paper
Is my way to cope
Anger, lust, sadness, anxiety
Depression; a slippery slope

I must continue to write
To tear down these walls
Work through my issues
Before death I befall
B 4d
For it is the same truth
That plagues and flowers
The one who cares the least
Holds the most power
Next page