Unearth

Tue, 06/30/2020 - 18:46 -- ak10278

Alyssa Kirby

Unearth

 

I can’t help but fantasize about the suffocating serenity 

that living underground would give me.

Maybe then I could forget the tender reminders which You placed

upon my burdened shoulders.

Existence could finally be a simple thing

as I try to capture the art of breathing in and out.

It might make me feel closer to You.

 

It would always be frigid and mellow in a way that only dirt that has just captured

the rain can be. And smell.

Maybe that would calm the aching that had always existed with (or because of) the knowledge of existence. 

And I could feel

the earth around me and breathe in the sweet world.

My new world.

I could find a place to stop thinking about how long it’ll be until I lose You

or

how long it’s been since I already lost You.

 

The dampness wouldn’t have an effect on me, 

I don’t think,

because it wouldn’t be able to seep into my bones and soften the callous 

edges that construct my modest outline.

It wouldn’t be too cold since my blankets are the soil around me,

and I would have shade even in the most intense sunlight.

Maybe then I could find a freedom.

 

Earthworms and beetles could crawl on me and weigh down my eyelids

so that I wouldn’t have to stare into the confusion of the void

or

oppose the void that would follow me around like the people I try to forget.

So maybe someday I could unearth myself and be someone different.

 

Someone who isn’t afraid to think of You

and doesn’t let noise shut them into isolation.

Someone who can feel enough to make them want to keep going

but not enough that every bone becomes saturated with emotion.

And I think that’s what emancipation is about.

I’ve been thinking about that word

a lot since I found You.

I’ll make it my goal and my ambition: 

to get to the place that maybe You always wanted me to be and not the place You left me or 

perhaps You had never even found me 

and how would I know?

 

I think that may be the best part about living underneath

the earth and finding a home somewhere I can

exist

suspended

in rapture

in limbo.

That I can still comprehend enough that I remember who I was 

but not enough to think clearly and without the dirt filling my nose and mouth.

 

Because I never want to forget You.

I never want to leave You.

I never want to suffocate You or step so far away

that You fly from my little glass jar and into the sky.

I never want to be mad at You.

How could I?

That’s why I can’t figure out why I continue to starve.

 

I’ve been thinking about salvation

and how I don’t really know what can save me 

and

I think maybe that’s why I want to be so close to You.

 

And You...

You’re the couple that sets their blanket out above me 

to laugh and hold each other close.

And You’re the children that run around on top of me,

carefree, limitless, innocent, playing and yelling.

You’re the mother that plants daisies and whose spade I can hear repeatedly hitting the earth above my head.

And You’re the birds that sing to me every morning 

You

are the squirrels that bury their food beside me and 

You are the deer that step lightly so as not to disturb the dirt and 

You 

are the roots that wrap themselves around me like the arms of someone I used to love or still love or want to love or have loved in another lifetime or who loves me, but I can’t find it in myself to love them back because 

You

are the dew that sits on the berries around me

and the gales that send shivers of ease through me 

and the rainbow that I just know must be above me even though I can’t see it because 

You

are the dirt that enfolds me and keeps me safe. 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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