Psychosomatic

These nerves
Cannot be blamed
For what this heart
Speaks blindly –

An uncensored pulse
Which carries
Such missing beats
Exposed,

Through tunes
Of natural hurt

And fear’s
Discordant rhythm

Where cadence breaks
From danger
Brushed aside
With absent cause.

I’m naked
Through those sounds
Skipping lines
Like verses stuttered,

Spilling words
Obscenely honest
Palpitations
Sing instead –

Throwing lies
Between each pause,

Finding pain
Just never answers

Any question posed
By science
Anxious skeptics
Always ask.

Perhaps faith
Can save no soul
Even if belief
Feels certain,

Much how doctors
Preach their gospel
Using pills
All fools ingest.

Only men
Play God through work.

I see most
Place hope in numbers –

Yet my ills
Prove lyrical courage,

Making art
While catching breath.

  • J. Pigno

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