Dig
Bury me in pity.
I constantly feel so shitty.
My fingers point to higher
ground.
I try to speak, without a sound.
Grunting and growling.
I'm drowning.
The voices of my aching faces.
It's tiring, inspiring.
Just how long I endure.
My faces, they're jaded.
My soul, has faded.
It's goodbye, I'm sure.
Dig up my brittle bones.
The deeper, the stones.
I start to turn to dust.
This coffin,
I lay in,
is rust.
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