I have a weight in my heart like a plate of meat.
On occasion I am thoughtful, when riding
the train I give up my seat. Somehow this is
my measure of humanity. My friend decided
to shit on herself if she’s stopped by police.
She thinks it’s the only way to ensure
her survival. I have a weight in my heart
like an empty liquor bottle. I’m the drooping
branches of a willow. A sheet pulled tight
across a bed. Too tight to even
crawl in and rest.