Walking abound eyes twitching.
Life bursting from its stitching.
Meaningless days continue on.
Counting down till life is gone.

Mind is sick relentless thoughts.
Begging for ease in a bottle of shots.
That road leads no where, that I know.
Just a painful existence on death row.

Days turn into weeks, weeks to years.
Seeking forgiveness, living my fears.
Alone I sit day in and day out.
Life has taken such a horrid route.

No smiles, no pain.
No happiness, no gain.
No comfort, no stress.
No feelings, no mess.

A life I can not feel....How do I heal?

A.Emmi 04/09/18

Will the sun ever
shine over my head,
Or the clouds will
always be there,
For, I am now tired
From everything
And now I hope
For nothing.
I lost my will
Somewhere in my
Journey
And I don't know
If I ever will found it again.

The years--what did they say
that I had grown old and senile?
there's still throbbing sap in the ageing tree
its trunk, branches and leaves would still last a while

never mind the young offshoots nearby
that have joined the shared foliage
they will be the sprouting voice of the future
the flourishing flagstaff that will carry the message

that all life is one and existence
is a cycle of eternal recurrence*
what had gone before would give way
in gracious gesture to a fresh in-coming  -- radiance

never loses its glow in the overall of both the young and old
there's light still in the warm and generous day
the ageing tree once provided lovely shade to weary travellers
it has had its times of glory--what more should it say?

Her lips take me to all of the places that I haven't been.
My tongue peeking from behind teeth.
The secrets inspired by us and us alone.
Exploring the world with our eyes closed.
All at once.
We too leaned against the cathedral
The very moment our eyes opened.
We wore each other's look.
Suddenly surprised at the places we came to be.
The sights we longed to see,
Now our favorite.
The bongs our heart made,
Discovering how big Ben really was.
The chimes always with us.
Through her shoes I felt her heart race.
Opening my eyes once just to see what beauty looked like.
This infatuation wrought in iron.
Stacked high to establish how far up we've come.
The lights that causally lit up along the way.
The fold indented in her neck.
The way she couldn't pace her breath.
81-stories up.
Our tongues the guide which produced the path we walked.
Convinced that we were the silhouette cast from the buildings we admired.
We pulled the shade on the Windows of the world.
Discovering something much more.
The sunset in each other's eyes
Soon as we opened them