Bury me 10 feet deep
put me to sleep like the rest of them;
you know we only ever get the best surprises
like flooded deserts and loss of autonomy;
and things kept hidden are only half-unwritten –
why can’t you move more carefully? You
can see this bruising, this catastrophe –
Why don’t you be a little nicer with her
and try your hand at a softer
mental obstacle course?
Maybe your shoulders wouldn’t strive so hard
if you walked on your feet instead,
but you’re grabbing and grasping and letting
your fingers direct the thoughts in your head;
parasitic infestations ruined all three
of my homes, but you’ll find
the evidence was walled by fire; and ash can hide
most secret pains –
so lull me to sleep with the promise of reconstruction,
but damnation is looming and I’m trying in vain to
un-curse these nightmares, before they further
entangle me;
your empathy shows when I count to three, and then
swallows self-pity and recedes again –
Why do these cycles never end?