Grave Digger

I’ve noticed a pattern with us

Or the way I think about us 

I see our story like something to be excavated 

I picture it trapped in a myriad of ways 

And in my retelling of what happened

Or when I think about retrieval 

I’m always breaking through something 

Thinking if I could just remove that layer

We’d have been alright 

Festering film between the air 

and orange juice in a glass or

A snow globe containing a frozen memory even

A scab protecting the most vulnerable parts of us

Turns out it’s a coffin

And we’re both inside