10 Feet Under

Crying so softly.
As though to cover the pain.
Sick of being me
Alone.
Happiness has been dead and buried
10 feet underneagth my soul.
for so long now.
Why must I stay??
Why must I suffer here??
Every cut of goodness
has been stole.
Stored away so tightly
to make sure I never find it.
Tied in pretty bows shoved in a quiet, dark corner
Surrounded by pictures and memories of the leftover crumbs of pie.
Sitting,
Crying so softly I wait.
Wait for something.
But nothing ever appears.
Nothing.