Let’s see
If I really die
When pushing
My heart
To its limits

In these tried
And tested
Gauntlets
Of obsessive compulsive
Relief

Raising my pulse
Too fast
While I bike
On an empty
Stomach

Drinking
An excess of water
In hopes
That my weight
May drop

By the time
I wake up
Depressed
From restless dreams
Come morning

Where terrors
Turn into daylight
And sunshine
Reminders
Of sleep

Which never
Provide
Enough grief
As much as this need
For adrenaline

When writing
Exposing those frailties
Like bleeding wounds
Dry
On a page

Through sweat
My lingering
Chance
To lose all breath
For a moment

And capture
That genius in transit
As it travels
From heart
To this phrase

Even before
I can choose
To stop
Such habits
Cold turkey

Knowing
Some might be
Dangerous
Despite the fact
They bring words –

For the world
Is used to
Seeing me
Naked
Without any clothes

Thank God
I’m just a poet
It’s okay
I pass away
Nude.

– J. Pigno