Exanimis Dolor - I Thought There Would Be More Time

I heard something Moving Behind the years. Dragging itself. Closer. Closer. Closer. I woke With dirt Between my teeth. No grave. No shovel. No memory Of being buried. Still… Every morning There was A little less sky. A little more earth. A little less Of the man I remembered Being. Until memory itself Became unreliable. Until his face Would not come When I called it. Something Has been living Inside my life. Wearing the hours. Sleeping In my body. Leaving fingerprints On years I cannot remember. I found decades Under my fingernails. I tried To scrape them out. They bled an unholy crimson I HAVE BEEN DIGGING MY OWN GRAVE WITH THE HANDS I USED TO SURVIVE. I THOUGHT THERE WOULD BE MORE TIME. MORE— FUCKING— TIME. But the mouth Was already open. And every morning I climbed inside. There were things I wanted. Once. I remember The shape Of wanting them. But not What they were. Something beautiful Must have lived here. Something Must have screamed When I killed it. I heard nothing. I HAVE BEEN DIGGING MY OWN GRAVE WITH THE HANDS I USED TO SURVIVE. I THOUGHT THERE WOULD BE MORE TIME. MORE— FUCKING— TIME. But the mouth Was already open. And every morning I climbed inside. THERE IS A ROOM INSIDE ME FULL OF BODIES. Every one Has my face. All of them Waiting. I am not… I AM NOT. COMING. BACK. I THOUGHT THERE WOULD BE MORE TIME. Sometimes I dream That I wake HE CANNOT HEAR ME. BECAUSE I AM WHAT HAPPENS WHEN HE DOESN’T WAKE I THOUGHT THERE WOULD BE MORE TIME. MORE— FUCKING— TIME. But the mouth Was already open. And every morning I climbed inside. I thought There would be More time… I thought There would be More…. I thought…