No I’m not
Missing a beat –

It’s this bad case
Of cardiophobia
Tugging my breath
Like loose drawstrings
Ready to entangle
These lungs,

While imagining
Daylight deceased
And nighttime
Fate’s only gamble

For another sleep
Choking on demons
Becoming what fear
I’ve abused

While pursuing hope
In some dream
Or discovering books
Between pauses
My heartbeat throws
Skipping moments
When science prevails
Over God.

Before faith
There was merely disease,

Once binding up nerves
Feeling worried

That soon each line
Will expire
Like formless shapes
Left behind –

Those chances
Appearing too vague
Where rhythms
Disrupt every silence,

Still caught
While knots well-established

See me running away
Breaking ties.

By pulling both ends
I’m undone,
Obeying the threads
Now unraveled-

Being ill
Means pulses write poems
Knowing art
Could claim any gasp.

  • J. Pigno

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