I buried myself beneath the dead leaves of autumn,
Laid me to rest in the cold dirt,
I let myself die in pain,
Only to re-emerge unhurt.
A blank canvas once again,
With no past and no name.
A soaring ghost without a shred of content,
only agony and only with sadness to gain.
I buried my hope in the wet autumn ground,
My phone is off the hook,
I’m not coming around.
I am six feet under and nowhere to be found.