I keep digging
Digging away
Shovel in hand
Hot sun on my face
Blisters and blood
But the hole only gets smaller.
The piles and piles of dirt
Mixed with my sweat
I’ve lost sight of anything else.
Perhaps
I should have stayed away
From holes and shovels
And things like that.
I couldn’t see
All the mosquitoes
That would buzz around me
Stealing what little blood
I had left.
I couldn’t see
The poison ivy
That crowded the dirt
That covered my skin
Until all I could feel
Was itch.
I couldn’t see
The squirrels and raccoons
Stealing my nourishment
Perching on my shoulders
Until all I could do
Was scream.
After standing in a hole
For too many years
I’ve learned feelings can waste away.
Like flowers
They need sunlight
Water and air,
Love.
And now,
Standing in a hole
Deep enough to hold my life
But not deep enough
To reach the other side
I want to curse something
Burn something, destroy something
Because if I can’t dig a hole of dirt
Then at least I can dig a hole of anger.
Maybe then I can leave this mess.
Points: 33
Reviews: 7
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