Is it home?

My heart is full of your red mud, like the tread of my shoes And you don't love me I have poured sweat into you And you don't love me I have loved the fruit of you, no matter the shape And you don't love me I have worked to care for your weak, to nurture your sick, kiss the feet of your broken And you do not love me I have torn myself apart mined for some sweet piece of you in my gore And YOU don't love me I have bled, bled every day I spilled from the womb into your arms And you do not love me I have nested here, so close I can feel your chest rise so close I can feel the heart underneath so close, God, I talk like you And you don't love me