It happened to her one night
she never told a soul
she buried it deep
as it seeped to the surface
no matter how much she dug
the rain raised the tainted waters
overflowing over its mouth
people thought she was problematic
because of her erratic behavior
they hurled mud at her already stained soul
and hollow eyes, they drug her to the well
tossed her in and cover her over with compacted
red soil, the rich kind.
She died again that day, but rose that night
clawing nail by busted nail through the dirt, and rocks
they all had wronged her, now it was time to pay.
Nothing stays buried forever.
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Quiet Corner 