Sinking Season


I feel myself starting to unravel.

Losing hope and finding nothing in return.

I’m going to need back the things you stole.

Some lungs to breathe and the thoughts that kept me whole.

I’m willing to grasp at any sort of substance, anything worth its salt.

 I’d even take back the imaginary belief that I was okay.

Because I guess I’ll never learn.

I keep dragging myself back to the damage that hurts the most.

Time has done nothing to erode what you left behind.

The wires that connect me to you.

Constructed to keep you living even after you’re dead.

But there’s only chaos and silence inside me and I feel nothing but exhaustion.

Gasping for air, coming up empty.

I’m drowning in your last breath, fighting sleep is so lonely.

 I dug for heaven and found it abandoned.

I kept digging like an addict who craves only dirt.

Under soil and dust, I’ll toil and rust.

Find me nowhere else but buried alive.

And I’m not ready to leave.

They must have buried you elsewhere.

Because I’m alone underneath the earth.

Weighed down by what I lost to get here, nowhere.

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