Buried Alive
I dig and dig,
Inspecting every speck of dirt as I move,
Trying to reach the bottom
Of an endless well.
I never need to dig very far until it gets easy,
Almost too easy.
The soil is softer further down,
All I have to do is push it back towards the ever fleeting sky.
The hole begins to crumble around me,
All my work means nothing as it pushes me
Into the darkness I was seeking when I began to dig,
But it's too late.
I try to drag myself out, piece by piece,
While every handful of information
Buries me deeper under the pile of knowledge,
Suffocating on the questions I still try and utter to the unreachable light.
All I wanted was to reach the bottom of the well.
YOU ARE READING
My Heart's Prison
PoetryThis is a collection of poems from a harder time in my life. They are not exactly joyful and have many subjects that people try not to broach frequently. These are very personal, but I hope that other people out there can relate. Thank you for readi...
