Felt the flow,

crossed no sea,

felt the air,

couldn’t breathe.


There might be too much,

might be never enough,

it gets no more than worse,

caught in a mirror,

the pass to universe is locked,

not a glance of reality.


Anxiety is rounding

covering the head,

feet and soul,

sold out your wife,

with you lasted life.


Got on,

freed you in black,

darkened shadows.


About marthachiara

Just that down there
This entry was posted in Alcohol, Amusement, art, artist, Caution, Days, destruction, Emotions, Feeling, Feelings, Infinity, Life, Love, Other, passion, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Reality, Redemption, Reduction, Remarks, schizophrenic, Sensless, Uncategorized, Value and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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