Mud Deep

girl lying on groundToday I tried to dig you out of my brain. As I pulled weeds and lifted soil to create an aesthetically pleasing garden I thought of you and W. I longed to be able to dig memories of you out the same way. I wanted to dig six feet deep with only my hands, tossing the anger over my shoulder, extracting you one pebble, one stubborn weed at a time, ripping my cyan painted nails and smearing the complimentary color red across my face as I swiped at the sweat and tears annoyingly tickling my skin.

If I can do this will you be gone?

Then I can throw the dirt back in, great heaving muddy handfuls, each clump solid proof that you will no longer be able to reach me and torture my thoughts, the perfect cover for killing you once and for all.

Once it’s filled in can I trample the site like it never meant anything to me, just like you did of me? I wouldn’t plant anything or mark it in any way. It would be just another unremarkable spot on the ground. Just another forgotten memory of what once grew.

How do I miss something that wasn’t real? How do I miss someone when they were never mine? If I put you deep enough will you stay buried and forgotten like I am to you? If you’re buried I can never hear you or W’s voice on the breeze again leaving me cold and lonely on a beautiful sunny day.

I’ve been away from you for longer than I knew you. But the memories won’t stay buried.

-xo T. 

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