Your mouth was a black hole
nothing could satisfy it
I stuffed mine full of rags
so my answers
could not be swept out of me
stretched into little twisted creatures
they banged their fists for a bit
but they’ve gone to sleep now
knowing I know they are there
any astrophysicist will tell you
that you can’t fight with black holes
everything gets pulled in
nothing comes out alive
the thing to do
is recognise it from a distance
and fly in another direction.
I wrote this for day 3 of The Dirty Thirty Challenge, which gives a poetry prompt every day for the month of April. The day 3 prompt was conflict. There's an active community of people posting poems over there. Highly recommend.
You can check out it out here:
https://facebook.com/groups/thedirtythirty/
Photo credit: photo taken by me, painting by Gretchen Albright at Te Papa