Self-Cure

Distract me
Though I might wither
During moments spent
Seeming happy
And seeking peace
Where hurt dwindles
Over decades
Forced to be strong,

But destroyed
When feelings ensue
What failure learns
Needing virtue
In places damned
By our efforts
Trading honest words
For a grin –

That certain phrase
Still unsaid
Between lasting stares
Over silence
Which tells of hearts
Skipping gently
Never knowing
How laughter can lie

Or deny such pain
At real costs
Since skimming books
Doesn’t mention
Those details lost
Missing pages
Trading dialogues
Looks never share.

Most paragraphs
End with regret
From holding back
Every sentence
These empty days
Could allow us
Wishing dreams
Were stories we lived.

Some people
Narrate their grief
Preferring God
Only listens
While removing fate
Through expressions
True faith may build
Taking time

If love should dare
Getting loud
Proving passions pay
Better riches
Than minutes drowned
Beneath questions
Chasing answers
Reason escapes –

How solitude
Imitates death
Forcing presence
Lacking discussion
Yet deluding minds
Staying focused
Meaning ignorance
Buries itself.

  • J. Pigno

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