6 Feet Under

I keep having these feelings of

Ugliness

Untamed wild flutters

Not of butterflies and first kisses

But of earthquakes and carnage

Troubling unhappiness

It may be the daunting edge in the chilled

Almost winters breeze

Bare bones and dried leafs

The threat is right behind me

Closing in

Reaching as I step with bloodstained crooked fingers

Scarcely missing my uneven footsteps  

I want to stop whatever this is

Before it actually starts

And tumbles out of my control

It already wounds my sensitive skin

I feel the grip of pain starting to close in.

I need to break free

To stop it before it slaughters me

Sinks me with my own fugitive tears

I will bury it in my garden of wasted dreams.

6 feet under

Next to the skeletons of my other mistakes.