Lady Macbeth's Confession

Never mind thick night! Darkness move quick!

Madness engulf me like Jacob's coat;

colors tighten like sickness 'round me throat.

Wha it is do already can't tek back

but it still got me a wash me hand

til they sour and callus, de visions

plaguing de dark a me mind like locust.

Me conscience no business dem days

when me could grin up and skin teet ¹

inna company of great men

who smile up smile up wid me

an looking fava ²  inna secret eyes an backdoor smiles.

I know say woman like me plain wicked an conniving:

stinkin' wid ambition, smilin' close against you skin,

seeking confession wid de devil.

Now so, me lay up inna bed wid death

a-write me love letter. Got me

a crave colors to soothe me spirit;

red never could please me,

purple grind like a grater on me cheek,

orange sting like a ledda on me hot skin,

and white—mek me breast feel weight down

wid milk, got me head swirling like inna hurricane.

I chew down me bitter nails til I taste de poison