Wake The Dead
Clawing through clumps of dirt
stones break my nails
flesh opens like a grave filled with one still breathing
and the soil becomes damp with my blood
Am I pulling myself up
is there a coffin at my back
or
am I wrapped in heavy starless night
and going down to find the rest of me
The earth is so comforting
silky grains of sand flow by me
so restful
so distracting
like a blanket that seems so warm
that one does not feel the weight
the smothering
for years
The casket cover becomes a lover
The empty evening becomes an embrace
Sedative not seductive
Complacent not comfort
Paralyzed not peace
It doesn’t matter if I dig up or dig down
so long as I dig out
past the clumps of lost time
through the pain my stupidity costs me
I will not waste my blood again
Tressa Lee Breen
January 3, 2014
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