Digging

I knew him.

I know that part of me a deep breathing,

moving part inside me

knew him too well...

 

And I fed on the idea fo growing, of things

changing and flowing an building

off the hope that maybe,

things could be different.

 

But I am statue, solid stone

that does not bend in the wind

and takes offence - quickly -

if anyone skims too close to the surface...

 

And I wish to excavate this body,

trench out the reasons for not living until there

is nothing but hope, sunlight and

promise. 

Author's Note

just be honest - brutality welcomed :)