Bury Me

I thought we were done,

you and I.

I thought I had you overridden,

locked out and tied down,

gagged and beaten -

buried six feet under

beneath the overgrowth

where the rot and decay

you had fostered

could turn against you.

But here you rise again

sure as a sunrise

straight as an arrow

looking like the fragile form

of a transformed butterfly,

yet headstrong against

the haunting screams of the wind

scraping against your grave.

With those beady eyes

you've been preparing to

break and pierce through

every lock and key

I had welded together

with shaking hands.

Give me a break, I’ve had enough.

I just want you gone,

but to rid myself of you

I’d have to bury me too.

____________________

This is the 16th poem in RE: SURGENCE, a poetry collection by Amanda Starks that shares what it's like to have and fight against mental illness in a free-form, lyrical prose.

Be aware that topics and themes may include suicide, self-harm, and isolation.

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