"Let the Morning Sort Us Out" by James Diaz

 

I've got to tell you

my song is broken 

too, the nights I can't sleep

I get dangerous to be around

my love is glass in food

so easy to swallow 

but hard to release

miss the mark of scar

lines we don't follow

home, a place like a truck stop

off a two lane, gravel pits

lit by motel light, maybe

I lug your ghost around

to prove to myself that I can

handle the heat

of another body

but my own bones

are lousy, greased, misfitting

the morning and I do not rise

easy, I ache to get lost

in someone else

but something in me can't get through

wires trip, call drops out,

cell phone towers eat all the trees

I used to climb when I was young 

and had not yet learned how to hate myself

for intangibles that wouldn't grow

bad soil, not enough light, it's enough now

I hear you breaking, I am broken too

this floor is heavy with our shards

songs in the night, sweaty bodies

fault lines opening up the earth

we pour our blood into holes

something (do you feel it?) grows there 

while we aren't watching

a poem, a song, a tree

a highway with no exit. 

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