Swallowed Whole

i wake to the bitterness of my feelings  
resting flat against my bed
the sheets are a second skin
white as the lie of good morning
 
outside the trees lean like mourners
bent under something unsaid
the birds peck at the ground
they know what is buried there
 
I drink my coffee like a poisonous weight  
let it settle where my heart should be
my guilt stares unblinking
a quiet thief that keeps my face
 
I have died a hundred small deaths
each one more painful than the last
soon the earth will forget my name
and I will not remind it