guard the grave
trough the dark days the light nights
in my hand: a shovel, ready
for memories digging their way up through
the veils of pretending
think they still have a heartbeat
while down in the soil
I sleep better I now get to in my own bed
do you remember, the dreamer whispers
how you used to gaze the
glow-in-dark stars
not afraid of the dark but looking for a wish
tonight the sky above frames of dirt
laughs with the distant suns
behind my back
I lie with myself
in the cold lap of earth
I lie with myself
up there ready with: the shovel, the guilt
and the glow-in-dark stars warned me, I think
of how our lips turned blue years ago
that it's me I'm burying over and over again
it's me who is dead
but I'm warm, I'm good
I lie with myself
