i don't even want to know why things are the way that they are anymore.
i don't understand. and i'm not going to try to these days.
it just is.

and in the midst of it all i have to be okay with it.
because the alternative is just too depressing.
and i won't let myself give in to that.

r.i.p

morbid. it dug in.
like a cancer
some might say.

yet it never started off small.
it was always something worth working at.
what was i to do
but dig
when the shovel
was so strategically stitched
between my fingers.

so there i lay myself to rest
in the sallow sunken ground
hollowed out like a holding place
for a coffin.

and here i will wait,
until you hand me my tombstone.