17 Feet Under

Innocently digging, for fun and insight

I saw nothing wrong with it, having forgotten

You tossed me a shovel

I helped

Digging happily like clamdiggers on a beach

An overbearing sense of foreboding overtook me

I shrugged it off, paid my attention in full to digging

Because I was healed

Repaired

But you had to show up with your shovel

You found my stash and cracked open the top

And it all rushed out and took me hostage

And I remembered and realized

That I was not healed

Repaired

I curled up in the box and begged you to bury me

But you handed me your shovel

And told me to do it myself.

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