Buried Alive

      Buried Alive


I'm never where I'm suppose to be          
Exactly where I do not know
I pass over leaves that make me no offer
where the tongue swells with echo
the eyes dusted with soil.

I carve my name out on dying trees
a pitter-a patter
...............a crime only I know.
I can't even dig my way out of my sin
But I skillfully peel another layer of skin.

I'm never who I'm suppose to be
I barter-I bargain.......Where do I begin?
ab libbing to last call
......................head bobbing to Eden
I will borrow a memory
............before the flesh has grown cold.