I.
suffocating
drowning
choked by my own
air
I cannot speak
I trusted
the trees
I trusted
the oxygen
I trusted
my lungs
broken is the one who trusts
blindly believing that faith will save them
wholly knowing
their prophecy is fulfilled by
concealed falsities
fortune tellers are an image of the mind.
II.
my eyes shut.
I find a door left ajar
I dare not peek through the crack it allows
the room is dark
I fear the unknown inside
the quiet siren sings to me softly
a haunting melody
a canary in a coal mine,
the hurt is quiet
ambushing me from behind
I trip
and feel the bones of my frail back break-
respite
they could not bear the weight anymore-
relief
I am dragged into the room
by the canary and
I see
all the things
I cannot speak of
my eyes open
but the darkness is the same as
in my mind
I plug my ears
but the quiet hum of danger does not disappear
there is no way out but the window
and still the canary follows me
all the way
down
III.
to the ground
I am pulled
a magnet for darkness
I am.
accepting the fall
does not make it shorter
rushes of color all around me
I am no longer
blind
is this certainty?
I know this is true-
reality does not hit
it approaches
in every slow, irking, insidious way
it knows how.
Forbearance is not
my greatest quality,
but on this pursuit of the underground,
I learn it anyway.
IV.
As I break through the dirt,
I expect my decline to reach an end.
Punishment for my worldly life,
I continue downwards
the grass disappears
the color shatters
shards in my hair
my world
fading back to black
suffocating
drowning
choked by the ground
I trusted,
I fall
(again)
into sleep.
V.
My lips tingle
Slumber fell upon them with the autumn leaves
Buried in a pumpkin patch, I cried out
but no one heard
No one listened
How could they when they had no ears?
I, numb-lipped, feeble-bodied, stayed there,
In the ground
No air to breathe
Suffocating
In the sound
Of the leaves
falling
too far
down
Alas, another month has gone by
Without a single word spoken
Without a single day broken by opening my eyes
Alas, here I am
Here I am
VI.
Something stirred above
It tempted me to reach among the blades of dying grass
That lined the earth beyond my head
My arm wavered as it broke the ground
My eyes burning with the sun
As it shone upon my paled skin
through the magnificent clouds
I shook off the shards that were laced within my hair
my eyes were open
and I could see
Through the leaves and pumpkins and clouds,
I levitated out of the ground.
The sound of a bird flying south
called me to go home
and abandon the cold.
VII.
I opened my mouth
And a river flowed out
Lily-pads and flowers
Fish and the breeze
My words returned to me
I shall never seal my lips
I shall never be buried again
I shall only sing the songs that the river riles inside my cheeks
My lips
Tingle
For the words to be said
and for the lost waters that stir
within.
Abigail Baker is a soon-to-be 11th grade student from Spokane, Washington, who loves animal cookies and writing. Her work is forthcoming in the fall edition of Just Poetry. She realized many years ago that she hates sports and now knows that poetry is a better hobby for her.