Why don't we have scars
For feeling too deeply?

No broken ribs
No punctured lungs
And yet, not an easy breath...

--

I want to blink out the stars
And let the blackness fall upon me

To forget this crippling despair
And breathe freely again...

Do you know that feeling?
Of deep certainty...
Knowing the truth in your bones.

It anchors you,
Grounds you to yourself.
You feel assured and confident
Of your choices and decisions...

I wish I could feel it again...
...

All hope is dead.

When you wrap your heart so safely
To save it from the dark
And your spark snuffs out

The jolly fat woman who rode on a horse,
     galloped, galloped with a clackity-clack,
     on cobble stone streets as if under attack,
     from her great hunger pangs, of course.
It galloped and galloped until a great crack
     was felt and a screeching loud neigh was heard,
     that startled to pitch-panicked flight every bird,
     throwing the fat off its back.
She rose from the mud to wipe off and gird
     her honor back onto her jiggling *****,
     then ran to the inn where she haggled with fulsome,
     for a bowl of hot fish soup with curd.
She gained two more stone in her gluttonous course,
then haggled at stables for a much stronger horse.

(C)2018, Christos Rigakos