I’m afraid this is
Really not living,

Being scared of an end
Every second

And reminded
Happiness lingers
Beyond what fears
Remain strong –

Like memories
Yet to be made,

Or a poem
That seeks being written,

Before this death
Which eludes us
Each second we seek
Where it waits.

Only ghosts
Find answers so close

As the rest must yearn
For their slumber

Still hiding in dreams
Every evidence
Of meaning outside
Pleasant thoughts

Within memories
Caught at fate’s brink

When our history turns
Into nightmares,

Facing truths untold
While they happened
But revealed too soon
During sleep –

Since daylight
Haunts me instead,

Waking up
From visiting family

Or being home once more
Without symptoms
Instilling such dread
Morning brings,

Wishing faith
Just wasn’t entrapped

Behind these eyes
Asking heaven

How tomorrow’s pain
Obscures mysteries
Now almost solved
Laying still.

• J. Pigno