Pisaries Creator

My feelings can’t be hurt. My bones can’t be broken.

I’m not the brittle leaf fallen from the tree.

My being stays. My essence remains within me.

I’m full of richness like melted chocolate.

My throat is too dry. My heart is too tough.

I’m not the stolen seeds the squirrels take.

My noises are rightfully theirs. My eyes search for water.

I’m not the slab cut from the body.

My body changes. My meat is warm.

I’m not the decision having to be made.