Lay down in the foul heat quietly
I have nothing insightful to say
About this deadened state of mind
But my body talks: purpled sunken
Skin like a nectarine gathering
Bed sores, you slice the “bad parts”
Off of me until you realize there are
No good parts. My stone heart is spat out
Collecting spirals of ants on the sidewalk
These thoughts reel though my core
Black and swarming and laborious