Buried Souls

Every time

I'm surprised

at how silent I am.

Angry as well

for how it lets my mind

take over.

Salty bliss drapes my cheeks

and I sweep them away

with remembrance.

This routine

has been perfected

over the many years of sorrow.

My loud wails are only faint memories.

Each night I buried

my soul deeper and deeper

to the point that now

I can't even call it to be

or speak 

its mind.