Hands, toes, and feet
All covered in dirt
The dirt you pile on and on
I can’t breathe

I feel cold
No more life in my bones
No more depth in my soul
No more spring I’m too old

I’m tired and heavy
Too weak to carry my weight
I falter and fall
My heart is too weak to wait

And you don’t help
You’re the one
Who hands me the stones
Of which I build my own grave

But you don’t hand them
You never gave me a helping hand
Instead you threw the stones
Piling them on and on
So painful I don’t want to breathe

My head pounds
With all the sounds
And all the shouts
That you pelt me with
The weight of your words are piled on and on

You bury me in hate
In depression
Dirt, stone, and word
You pile them on and on
Until I’m gone