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.