Digging up the dead

Finding people in the earth; lifting them out and giving them light; closure, a name sometimes. It's strange because for a long time I wished I was down there with them, it just seemed so much more comfortable, easy and simple. You die, you go to the ground, the earth eats you, and you liquefy before you ultimately turn to dust.

Yes people, first you turn into a thick, peanut buttery consistency before ultimately turning to dust. Not so romantic now, is it?

It's still much simpler than just remembering to breathe each day.

At least things are looking better, the days aren't so hot; nights aren't cold or lonely, even though by bed still only fits one person.

It's a sharp line what divides earth from the sky; the blue and the ground; the soft from the hard and I'm right in the middle walking a road just barely visible but my road none of the less. Feels better living this way than walking behind someone else’s footsteps. Better than walking behind anyone for that matter.

Days come and go, opportunities just the same, most of them I put to rest before they even arrive, but there are some, a few, I can still take and make mine, I'm doing that right now and I'm enjoying something for the first time in my life. My independence.

I'll be selfish, I'll be a prick, a fuck, a screw up, whatever, but I'll be myself, and for the first time in months I'll be putting people in the ground not thinking: "I wish I were you, pal."