This blood
I spit
Is real,

Each organ
Fails so
Slowly –

I’m neutered
Weak
And thinning

But yet
You keep me
Still,

With moans
And angry
Screams

When being
Held
For comfort

From the ways
You know
I battle

Without
That voice
To speak.

What love
I show
Is faith,

To the point
I’m meant
To suffer

Close
As God
Can answer

For a soul
As small
As this.

These shots
Don’t hurt
Too bad,

I prefer
Long sleep
Regardless –

Put me down
Like a dying
Cat,

In truth
It is more
Humane.

– J. Pigno