This Damn Stone.

Have you ever screamed into the soil?

Collapsed feeling the earth colloid with your skin.

As the sound of your soul pours out piercing through the dirt,

In hopes that their bones will hear it and embrace you while you plead for this all to be a dream.

Stared blankly, gazing at the pieces of what used to be your life,

An abyss that swallows you whole when you’re lying next to that stone.

Fought the urge to wrap the icy ground with blankets,

Over the place they call a grave.

Because you must have lost logic somewhere amongst the wreckage,

And even the thought of those physical remains freezing all alone,

Tastes like panic in your throat

I'd be lying if I said I didn’t think about using my own bare hands,

To tunnel through 6 ft of this planet and that coffin.

Because maybe just maybe if I could just see them one more time,

I could stop questioning If I’m still alive.

My heart sounds like its beating but I’m convinced it’s no longer there.

Do you think it left when I hit my knees that night in the ICU?

Or maybe as they sat across the desk arranging the funeral, we weren’t ready for.

Was it when they handed me a rose that was drapped over the box they lowered into this hallow dirt.

Can you hear me, can anybody hear me.

The world keeps turning and I’m stuck here next to this damn stone.

Photo Credit: Sherisavino