New Day

I dig my hands into the ground, fill my fists with earth. Mud, grass, rotten fruit, broken egg shells. Real earth stuffed itself under my fingernails while my ear pressed upon your chest. “I love you. I really truly love you.” The words escape despite my lasting efforts to diminish them. Wipe them from my vocabulary. Those words hold so much power, like the fertile soil I grasp, they can change lives, grow things, also kill. Too much fertilizer suffocates the seedlings. Words as strong as these can easily suffocate and kill. “I really truly love you. I mean it . and it scares the shit out of me.” You pull away from me, take my hands out of their earthly resting place, and kiss them. The dirt dusts your lips, earth speaking through you. “I can’t. I’m sorry. Its too much.” The fertile earth has suffocated me. Taken my ability to breathe and move. I am stuck in sludge and I don’t care to leave it. I would fill my nose and ears and eyes with it if it meant I’d never have to hear your apologies ever again. If it meant I never had to smell your sense of guilty regret. See your eyes and know how many times they were so dishonest. “I love you. I love you. Good bye.” I dig my hands back into the earth and I am enveloped completely, finally, one with the grass. I am a seedling. I will grow into truth shaped like a weeping willow. I will sprout love