Six Feet Away

One foot in, and I can still feel everyone.
          The people I love. The people I already miss.
          The ones I could have loved. And the ones I left all those years before.
Two feet in, and I start to feel warmer.
          Except I’m so far away from myself.
          I smell my end coming slowly.
Three feet in, and I’m losing my sight.
          The light that peeks through is fading.
          But another light is starting to blind me.
Four feet in, and I feel the heat and darkness surround me.
          I’ve lost my mind. I’ve lost my thoughts.
          I just can’t do this. I just can’t.
Five feet in, and I want out.
          I don’t know what’s happened.
          What got me here. I just want it to end.
Six feet in and I can’t breathe.
          I haven’t any strength. I can’t even move.
          I’m beyond saving.
Six feet in, and I woke up too late.
          My scratches and screams will never be heard.
          I changed my fate too long after fate wrote my end.
Six feet in, and I feel smaller and larger.
          My hair and nails begin their eternal growth.
          And I am being consumed by the earth itself.
Still six feet in, and I am finally doomed.
          I am paying for my biggest mistake.
          A soul forever trapped in a corpse.