Pit

the dirt and stones

have ripped my fingers ragged

torn the nails

to the quicks

as i claw at the floor

my blood becomes mud

inching closer to the bottom

i descend lower and lower

into my pit

you can see my finger bones

poking out of my mangled flesh

and each time

i delve further and deeper

my nerves scream

more than i do

but they fall on deaf ears

no moans, cries or wails

will escape the pit

no reason no rhyme

will escape the pit

light is diffused

by the depth

it has no wish

to be here

for this is the bleak

for this is the darkness

for this is depth

this is the pit

so as i descend

in a shroud

of mud, blood and pain

i ignore the shrieking of my body

- the sundry of its hurting parts

i ignore my inner dialog

- i have no time for self induced panic mode diatribe

i ignore all rules

- they have a degree of flex unlike laws

this pit i have dug for myself

this pit that i call my own

this pit...

and all the shit

i have done;

done to you

done to us

done to me