I begin to awake
the echo of nails
pound in time to my heartbeat
I scream
and beat raw at these walls
knowing that no one listens
As ancient words grow clear
I hold my breath
heat rises
from inside my chest
I tear at the wood
splintered and bloodied
If the gods want me
they will have to work for it
The feeling of dirt
falling into my eyes
strengthens my will
And as I move
those words hesitate
power wanes
‘til my sound
drowns out theirs
Chants become screams
as moonlight cools my skin
I bide my time
and let them flee
Then become the monster
they thought me to be
[bctt tweet=”DARK POETRY – ‘Buried Alive’ by Tina McFarlane @tina_mcfarlane #poetry #darkness #darkpoetry #poet #writingcommunity” username=”theboldmom”]
