Numb

Alive- alife; it is, but when?
I kiss, I smile, I weep, I bleed,
I sleep, I run, I play, I feed.
But hangs over a mystic breeze,
Barred is focus, all all other hocus pocus.

Look to dawn, and rising climax,
But takes me farther away,
Look to close n' compact boldily warmth,
Yet it too fails, any and everyday.

Slit my wrists, bash my bones;
None as ever.

Read, shop, TV, and a drop:
Of bubbly wine; Radio, music,
Sports and games- all the same,
Benumb. Enough! Enough for allsake!

Wish to cry to bleed, to feel-
So I could bathe in mirthful laughter,
So to softly touch, and wetly kiss,
So I could feel her heart, her peerless gaze.
And all I do is feed and grow,
not me- isolating bubble- this I know.