Layla Sweigart Poet Free verse

Haitian Dreams

Feeling herself she drifts
but nothing like yesterday 
while she was young-

she screams at the door 
to nobody on the other side
but she feels heard- 

so she slowly dies in her anger
and comes alive on the nights where she has nothing to spare
digs a hole so deep
but never deep enough to be found

we call that blood mercy
when youre unseasonable
and unwanted
for the world
with blue hands

she knows nothing is how it seems
govern by lunatics
no better than she-

sleeps with her head on a rock
and her side on a pillow
so she always knows
permanent things you are ungrateful for

your child bears weak arms
so you cut them off
is this love?

bloody mercy
meanwhile my Haitian Dreams 
drive the moon to insanity 
as I linger in my death bed
they shout 
"Tu es inops!"
"Prepare yourself! Quickly does the river flow!"

I should've listened.

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