I buried all my writings
in the backyard
under dirt
my knuckles
they were bleeding
and my fingers really hurt
the words were scrawled
like zigs and zags
and I was writing
all night long
the words THEY said
I couldn’t write
were turning into song
they’re all the evidence
I ever had
so I dug into the dawn
THEY found me
in the morning
sprawled out
across the lawn
THEY took
the shovel
from my hand
and made me
show
THEM where
THEY burned them right
in front
of me
all I
could do
was stare