She's evasive at best,
I beg her nightly,
Come visit me, please,
My body is tired
And my mind is too,
I need her here,
I need the velvet pillow of release,
Release from consciousness,
Just one night uninterrupted,
I long for her,
I long for sweet slumber

(C) eileenmcgreevy@ymail.com 30/01/20

I wonder if I'll ever know what it feels like
to wake up each morning
to a life
that's actually worth living.

The sun rises atop the mountains,
The warmth awakening every inch of my being,
And time stands still for just a moment.
The world is at peace.
That’s when I know I’m alive.

~sdr

Wake up, head pounding,
throat on fire; the air's too bright.
Check where you are,
check what is on you
--clothing or otherwise--
hands croak for water, trembling weakly;
bottles of liquor, open at random;
pick your way through
the jungle of clothing;
single shoes scattered.
A book, earmarked maybe, from another life.