How many times do I have to regress
and regret all the times
I've faltered?
Should I relive and revive all
my sins and wrongs,
create and shape my own private hell?
Is it not what I deserve?
To bury the past in shallow graves
so the rain may reveal
the skeletons of my loves past
yet never gone -
what of the dirt on my hands?
Is it not plain to see the time
I've spent digging holes within?
How long do I continue digging -
until the soil beneath my nails
turns to blood in clenched fist?
Can I keep looking to the past
to reveal the ways of my future,
or is it in this present moment I am
to seek and see answers?
What words should I etch on tombstone
to harken what it is I cannot say?
To what spirits and lords above
and gods below should I
shovel so many final resting places,
and to which of these I've dug
is mine own grave?