There was one day
I ventured to a cemetery
Just on the edge of
Town.
A cemetery that was
In no way significant
Except to those
Who had relatives,
Friends and loved ones
Buried there.
The paths were shaded
By large green trees
Their trunks so wide,
I couldn’t
Circle their
Entire breadth
With my arms.
The occasional bench
Sat nestled between
The sweep of
The trees’ branches
As they reached
Down to the
Earth, back to
Their origins in
The dirt.
I’d brought a book
Hoping to find the
Perfect place to sit
For an hour
And escape reality,
Bury myself
Deep in someone else’s
World, someone else’s
Mind and feel
Something other than
The endless stretches
Of nothing,
The non-events.
My legs were burning
From the exercise,
Like fire ripping its way
Through my muscles,
Coursing agony
And barbs of wire,
Sweat dripping
Down my back.
But it felt
So good to finally stop,
Stretch and be still
As the heat rolled over me
And adrenaline
Spread through
My body. It was like
Flying above the clouds
Light, free, hopeful,
Someone
Of interest, and someone
With a secret.
Instead of who I was,
Nothing interesting,
Just me,
The girl who wished
For a story
Of her own.
YOU ARE READING
The Loving Dead
PoëzieVerse novel. It was a long summer, until she discovered the grave. The boy buried 6ft under. The love of her life. She didn't know what drew her to that grave stone to begin with. Before meeting that boy she was sheltered, never really focusing on...
