Stony showers flood down for days
river of clay breaking out of its bank
by the time the sun comes out
I've become caked in, neck deep
A sane woman would've found shelter
fled to higher ground found a better way
except I only know what is mine so I do not stray
become nothing but a mountain of mud.
Eventually, I'm exhumed, body mangled, yet face intact
a hush goes down as I'm laid out on the oversaturated bank
worms still clinging to my skin, whispering how lovely I am
what a waste what a waste to become such a pretty face.
Created: Apr 26, 2017Attilee Document Media