Posted on Leave a comment

Search for living

Search for a strong light

One that will hold

Cable

Open the box

Check how many little white pills

Fall to the ground

Weep like a child

Rock back and forth

Nose running into mouth

Screams in head

Battle, battle for life

Try slow down the mind

Try to rationalise thoughts

Children

Mother

Aunt

Sister

Daughter

This was not meant to be

I have dreamt my future

I’m old

With my old feet in the Sea

Poem by Emma Visca

Posted on Leave a comment

Past of him no longer haunts my soul

Forgiveness

Taste the dishonesty

Aware of it all

Want to hear you whispering

Meant to hear your thoughts

Am I the one?

I tried to be beautiful

Still not good enough

What are you thinking

You are a magician

Able to exist in two worlds

I thought I was your future

Jealous

Jealously not at ease

I don’t want her touching your skin

I want to lay with you

In our field

I tried to change the way I paint

Be less awake

I am who I am

Slept on the floor

Put a bag on my head

Drank the blood full of drugs

Drowned in the tub

Go fuck yourself

Fuck

Fuck

I’m no longer going to sit

Waiting

I choose life

I choose you

Past of him

No longer haunts my soul

The fig tree grows

I watch it grow

Allow yourself to follow your inner madness

Don’t hide it.

I’m a fig in your hand

Will you throw me away

Wait for me to dry up

Life

Too many lives

Did I die already

Poem by Emma Visca

Posted on Leave a comment

Let me heal

Not again

Let me heal

Let me love myself

These tears are gonna disappear

Don’t want to run away this time

Strength, give me strength

Strength to love myself

Strength to love him

Freedom in love

Give me freedom in love

Sacrifice, I will sacrifice myself for one truth in love

Let it be

Let it be him

Cursed with sadness

Depression

Fear lord let me love thy self

Nothing real can be threatened

Is our love real?

Let me heal

Poem by Emma Visca

Posted on Leave a comment

Imperfect

I am imperfect.  I spend my days wondering who the real me is.  I am lost in translation with my own self. Some days I wonder If anyone really sees me.  Sees the real me. Then I think of the Moon.  My Moon. The Moon that sees me and then I cry. In my dreams the Moon takes me and releases my soul.  I see myself smiling and looking down at the world.  I have become the Moon.  We have merged as one being

Emma Visca