I'll bury it,
How I scream so loud
That the earth would just swallow me whole
If it would mean my words would somehow touch yours;

I'll bury it,
How I long for the ravens to eat my carcass
As I wait for you to even just whisper my name,
And regard it as cathartic love;

I'll bury it,
How I write with withering flowers
And rotting souls
And tell you I write with the morning blossom;

I'll bury it,
The broken **** I am,
And fill your fields with dew;
If that's what it would take—

For you to see.
How much I write around your letters;

For you to notice.
How you make me high when you're high,
And low when you're low;

For you to know.
How hard it is for me to see you uneasy.

I'll change.

*Even if your words go to another