Punctuated

I just bleed
To narrow it down
Using terms
You’d understand
Speaking flesh
Cut from this sentence
Like my words
Made open wounds

And old scars
Left written down
For these eyes
Which follow torment
Bearing witness
Through their glances
Across pages
Splashed with death

Fearing paper
Has no end
But what phrases
Stay unfinished
At the whim
Of lying poets
Whose sole purpose
Is relief

From such hurt
These verses claim
Show our flaws
Or given weakness
Hiding devils
Within details
Still revealed
To be their truths

If exposed
From sudden breaks
Like one bruise
That’s always swollen
Using pauses
As examples
To tell stories
Between lines

Squeezing hope
Where fate is dense
Finding God
By pen and failure
Begging lifetimes
Fit in margins
When all grammar
Kills us fast.

– J. Pigno

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