Thoughts from an open grave

The walls beside taunt and prod
Only the clouds above plead my case

For the memories I cherish dig me deeper
Until the clouds are no longer in my favor

The lungs soaked in the scent of wet soil
Can grant freedom in a single scream

For the people I’d rather not remember
Are above me listening

But aid or harm, I do not know
For on the soil above I grow and grow

And to grow is to learn and to learn is to hurt
For I could end it all here, below in the dirt