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Digging a Hole

A Poem

She had never dug a hole before.

She had heard people speak of it,

allude to it,

laugh about it.


But she did not

want

to dig a hole.


She became friends

(or so she thought)

with a boy

who wanted to dig a hole,

she said no.


He took a shovel

anyway

and gave her one, too.

They started digging,

him faster and stronger than her,

but she could not stop.

She did not know why.

She could not seem to hear her

thoughts

or find her

voice

over the sound of his shovel.


The hole was dug too fast.

The first strike of the shovel was the

worst.

The ground was broken,

it could

not be returned to its

original, untouched surface.


He was gone.

She was alone,

and scared,

and humiliated.


She just wanted to hide

her blood covered hands,

wounds that went deeper than

anyone could see.

Her exhausted body and mind

felt the shame of the world.

Trapped with no where to go.


She was stuck in the hole

that was too deep

for her to climb out of

on her own.

So she pretended

she was fine

and that her smile was real.


She tried to forget about

the hole.

Hoping no one would ask

or find out

or see that she could barely breathe.


Calluses from a shovel too big

covered her wounds.

A remembrance of what could

never be undone.

If only…


But maybe someday she will dig

another hole.

With time

and patience

and love

and the whole will be filled

with dreams.


Not pain.

About:

This poem is intentionally vague. Alluding to sexual assault, abandonment, and depression, this poem is intended to make one think while also connecting with a broad audience.

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