I Found Myself Buried

I was naked, around twilight,

Covered in dirt and leaves

Having been buried alive,

By life buried.

A crawling mass of moist earth

Composed of dismembered deaths,

Colonies of feeding decomposers,

And my own fragile ego.

I must have sunk

From grace down to dirt

And been planted face-down,

Neglected and self-misused.

I suppose I slept

Because I dreamed vividly

In colors more vibrant and varying

Than I ever felt before.

I’d visited myself,

Seen the spectrum of my being

Like so many blends of fantasy and memory

Shifting perpetually within.

Only after waking

I recognize the implication

Of finding myself alive,

Head-first buried in a hole.

 

 

When Shedding Skin

It becomes obvious

How much damage was done.

How much you were stained

From the effects of your surroundings.

Like the yellowing of smoke,

Pure white turning dim,

Recollections of abuses

In a dirge to your past.

Mistakes and misfortunes

Painted alike

On the ever-aging flesh

Wrinkling steadily to dust.

Wash it away,

Pull yourself out

And see who you were

With clearer eyes.

Let it fall off,

Feel it loosening

And setting you free

From cares long dead.

Shedding skin,

The ghost of past scars.

Rejuvenating

And flowing forth.