May be one of these days, I'll take a shovel and dig. Dig deep. Dig down. Until a pit is formed. Glistening moss shall be there, reminding me of worms I killed on purpose. Pricking smell of rotten promises and expired hope shall pierce my nostrils. Air shall blow, not wind. And then, air shall be abandoned. The soil, embraced. Curtains shall be stitched of gravel with threads of guilt. And there, I'll search for time. I'll search for all the lives that you said you'll live but couldn't. I'll search for the darkness you promised you weren't scared of. I'll search for the tears that you never shed. With the ingredients in hand, I'll then bury my poems and return, centuries after, to search for their bones, again. ā % & One of these days. Perhaps I'll be an archaeologist then. š #ruins #grave #poetry #jug_days