The shriek of your indifference
Carves these lovely, unfillable holes.
I could fall all night without sleep.
the body is mostly water,
Some salt
Lots of weak noises.
The body is mostly cry
And cry is mostly prayer
And prayer is mostly made of soul-voice.
You help my soul, find a voice
Sad and jazzy like a Toni Morrison notebook
you are not pillow mist.
More like sun in a spray bottle
your rays got too much heat and cancer
to spritz a bed for dreams
You More like brick dust
More like coal melted down to volcano spit,
More like thorn-dripped blood
Iron and aluminum crushed between teeth.
You talons on blackboard.
Comfort don’t come natural as logic
To u.
you like to sleep til I don’t trip no more
But I’m trippin into the night baby
Trippin til sunlight
Trippin into those holes
and I’m not pretty that low.
Don’t you know
this love is a scar? Don’t you know nothin
About flesh tearin’, infectin,
Leakin for gauze?
Why the hell is it so hard for you
To be a pillow to bleed into?
Or the mist that sweetens
The smell of open sores…
Just this once?
J. Swift 