Bury Me

Something in me whispers

on days like these.

Whispers truths

and they are clean and clear

and ringing.

Something inside me

speaks, and it tells me

that I am not broken.

That I am whole,

even when this world

is breaking.

The snow falls outside

covering all that is ugly

and dirty and I

can almost pretend

that the world is wild

like it used to be

when I was a child.

I want to be covered

in the white and the cold,

one with the earth,

I want to breathe in

the sweet smell of ice

and nostalgia,

and listen to the

trees creaking while

life holds it's breath

in the crisp winter air.

Everything is muffled

as the snow falls,

and I walk through

the trees as they hibernate,

and I feel more whole

than I have ever been

despite all the pain.

This is home.

Amongst the tall trees

heavy and sleepy,

trudging through

the woods of my childhood,

searching for the perfect place

to sit and contemplate

this incredible existence,

and wait for the storm to

bury me.