Purposely buried underground,
The fresh mud plastered her skin, the coldness grasp her body, and locked her life in,
Sand packed in her nose, and scratched her eyes, the darkness became her friend she wanted to find,
She felt her heart beating faster than the Congo drums,
The palpitations were her only confirmation that breath still filled her lungs,
They talk to her you know, the 1 am moments, in a realm she constructed entirely on her own,
Numb and immune, accustomed to it, nothing hurts when she isolates herself there,
They talk to her you know, the beetles, the bugs, the rodents of the land, bustling in her ear, whispering melodies, with kind words and affirmation she never said to herself,
Hello old friend, do you remember me?
The alien with the big eyes and webbed feet?
It's funny how they remembered the sound of her feet slapping against the ground,
The alien who really wanted to be found.
