Digging My Grave

Far out away from anyone I work
Digging my grave in soft spring dirt
It’s not something I’m proud of
Putting this much effort in my own death

I’ve contemplated these things before
I shrugged the thoughts away
(Typical me, all thoughts no action)
But now, it’s different, it’s real

Each shovel full of dirt is a mistake
One from the past, one that haunts
Each shovel full of dirt is a sign,
I’m getting closer to rock bottom

I’m not doing this because I’m a coward
I’m doing this because there’s no other way
For years I’ve tried to find a work around
Applied myself in meaningful ways

Nothing ever works out the way I want
Or the way anyone else wants it too
They’re needs are the source of my needs
I want to please them, but I fail to do so

So here I am digging my grave
Hoping to bury the burden that is me
Hoping to seal my fate in the world I hate
Hoping my absence goes unnoticed