At times I think way too much and when I need to, I don't think at all
I wish there was an in between so I could stop thinking myself into this depression  that digs me deep into the ground where I can see the worms, I am one of the worms,
and the dirt is so tight around me that I can't even move, I can't even squirm.
When I try to speak, it all falls in into my mouth and all that comes out are chokes and gasps for air that is not there but miles above my head where the grass grows green.
I can't make my way up so maybe if I keep going down I'll come out on the other side of this earth where I can be in a foreign place and start new without this hurt.
The magma in the center will burn me to ash but I'll find my way to the surface with a different kind of mass
and I'll be in every plant
and I'll be in every tree
and every time you take a breath, I'll be in the air you breathe.
My soul will go on forever because it's all you'll feel and it's all you'll see
and I'll never be forgotten because you'll all be me.