Mournsap - Sleep Like Roots

I buried my name beneath the ash tree, Wrapped it in nettle and a rusted ring. No one will call me now. No one will find what I used to be. My thoughts are damp and soft with mold, Stacked like bones in a cellar of fog. I keep forgetting I still breathe. I keep wishing I forgot how. The world still turns. The light still breaks. But not for me. Not for my wake. So let me sleep like roots— Tangled and low, Where sorrow ferments And nothing can grow. Let the worms make sense of me. Let the moss forget my name. I lit a candle for every grief But the wax bled faster than I could weep. Now the room smells like cedar and rot, And silence has teeth that won’t let go. Let me sleep like roots— Beneath your stone. Beneath your hands. Beneath your tone. I don’t want the light to come. I only want to rest where it won’t.