Buried Girl
‘Neath wet soil and gravel she sleeps in a dream, with ghosts to keep her company.
Oblivion’s slumber was sunk like the sea; just deep enough to breach.
Submerged underwater blue afterlife sways, while currents pull laboriously.
Her imprisoned mind clutches familiar needs, and rots her chance to flee.
Between dawn and nightfall her fingertips bleed, and dye the oceans burgundy,
While breakable algae grows thick on her sleeves, she shivers in the deep.
She can’t scream or fight where she’s anchored below, as coldness numbs her hopelessly.
The war between floating and just letting go, leaves her unfit to breathe.
But silence is soothing and rest a relief; could nothing cause her soul to leave?!
The ghosts in the shipyard beginning to scream: it’s here she needs to be.
- Amy Strom, (2012).