Gasping air, racing heartbeat,

My mind is racing, as if I was loosing

Every minute, second and hour of life

Vaporing away, dulgeing into darkness

My body shivers & shakes, wants to lunge

But it's frozen, as if I was emerged 

In a deep frozen lake, with no one to 

Rescue me, I lye, gasping air, racing heartbeat...This is my enemy, Anxiety

Some days are better than other,

Some nights are harder than most,

I awake to the beaming bright light of dawn,

Only to feel a five second rush of happiness, before I go twirling, twisting,

Plunging down, as if that is all

The world will let me have, just 5 seconds of happiness before my hero takes hold... This is my depression

It hurts to move, to just raise my pen 

to write, may be the death of me

My body is broken, cold, and lonely,

As if it was vanishing into the depths of hatred,

Killing the pain with one fight left, 

Drains every inch of energy in my soul,

As I kneel to pray, I ask for the pain to stay, just one more love-making scene...For my pain is my lover! 

(C) 2017 JAnn Bowers of Echoic

My body shivers,

It’s so cold

My mind aches,

As if the sea was departing

My heart,

Is gone from my chest

As I search for my spirit

In death

Was eternity to be so

cold and vivid?

Eternity, the beauty

Where are these?

My spirit lies here

In search of thee

Oh YES!

How do I say?

~Eternity~ is now flooding me!

(C)2015 JAnn Bowers of Echoic

https://jannbowers.blogspot.com/

My coffee is cold,

My hands are numb,

My mind is blank,

Of expressions to bank

This word play, is killing me

Need a break from sanity,

To find my insane, crazy, lunatic mind

To play this game…

My coffee is cold,

My hands are numb,

My mind is blank,

So let me go

To find creation within

My soul

(C) 2015 JAnn Bowers of Echoic

https://jannbowers.blogspot.com/

Prose, a place for any writer to grow and receive honest feedback with a caring touch. The Prose, is becoming my world through words of sharing with a great group of writers. A place to release all emotions, thoughts, ideas freely! Writers of all sorts can choose from posting in challenges to show their skill or just share & share again!

Why do I continue to hold onto nothing?

When love must not want me,

Why do you insist on playing with my heart?

Why do I continue to want you...?

When it’s obvious you don't want me...then

Why don't you just be honest, instead of lying to us both?

Why do I feel so dam alone...?

When you are not around...

Whenever you are here with me,

I still feel so freaking alone,

Why do you even come around if you don't want me so?

Why do I continue to hold onto you?

Why is my heart barricading all the others from reaching in?

When you, for sure are scared for life of hurtful love...

Then take my heart and I will show you true love...

***

(C) 2016 JAnn Bowers of Echoic

This poem can be found in my latest book "She's Gone...Broken, Battered & Bruised" on Amazon

https://www.amazon.com/Shes-Gone-Broken-Battered-Bruised-ebook/dp/B01NCUVR4W

Sixties came and went,

As the seventies rolled in,

I was born upon my mother’s breast,

Last of four kids, I was the baby of the family,

Seventies were filled of adventure, fun, and games,

Learning new faces and names,

I was soon off to school, to find my way,

Not knowing, what I know today,

That each connections would impact me,

The seventies left, I was so innocent

The eighties were here, and I was not prepared,

Crazy fashions, and ideas swarmed my head,

Music was the best, parties with friends, was my fate

AIDS hit close to my homes, as I buried many of my friends,

Drug wars hit my streets, as I watched fellows fall

Sixties, seventies, eighties,

The generations of it all…

As I watch, another one falls,

Brother, sister, friend…does it really matter?

Fore, I was born upon my mother breast,

(C) 2017 JAnn Bowers

The smell of lilacs in the air

Reminds me of you, mom

And the way you took my palm

And said you would never leave me….

Then on that frightful morning so many years ago,

When you were taken from me, before it was your time to go…

These lilacs I picked for you today, mom

As I laid them upon your grave

My heart is full of sorrows

And worries for tomorrow

Wondering how life is going to be without you, mom

I sit and rub my palm,

As it aches for your lingering touch

As a child you held it tight, in protection

Now my palm is empty as my heart…

For these lilacs are for you, mom

We connect on a daily basis

As we sit with phones in our hands,

And laptops in our laps,

We connect through small messages, tweets and other sorts,

We think we know the person, but do we?

We connect our hearts into unknown relationships,

Ones that makes us smile, cry, and laugh.

Pictures of loved ones, and silly quotes, but most of all by small messages, tweets and other sorts,

We believe we are safe, but are we?

We connect our souls, into groups,

Of our interests, in hope of support and love,

All these connection are clichés, by small messages, tweets and other sorts.

We feel loved, but are we?

We connect our minds, over political and society issues

Hate, anger, and racism in our hearts

For we all see just black and white, by small messages, tweets and other sorts

We feel a war purging in our veins, but do we…Really connect?

I was the disease that you never wanted,

I played games with your heart,

Whenever you looked into my eyes,

You couldn't handle the rush of emotions,

The feeling of falling,

Not knowing if I would be there to pick you up,

You played the role of gun and bullet,

Out to kill the disease that was aching at your heart,

Knowing that the disease is what you wanted,

But the pride is the bigger enemy to love,

Love would mean letting go,

Twirling out of control,

The shivers and shakes,

The withdrawals,

The heart breaking when you weren't with me,

Was all but the disease eating at you

And you turned your back,

Walked away and killed the disease

With the bullet with words of lies,

Because I was the disease you wanted all along.

(C) 2015 Echoic JAnn