She fell through the ground,

in the rain.

She fell through the ground,

in the snow.

She fell through the ground,

in the sun.

She fell through the ground,

every night.

Dreams and reality blend like paint,

Creating an image—

in life and in mind—

of the pain and the longing never left quite behind.

She falls and falls in the bottomless nothing,

Losing control of her mind and her life.

It is easy to get lost

in the underworld.

It’s not easy to be found

once fallen.

To awake from the fall with your feet on the ground,

To scream in the void, never making a sound,

To grasp and not clasp,

To rip but not grip,

To pull and to push but still remain bound.

She falls through the ground—

it goes on,

it goes on.

Bound with ropes to a dream,

rough nylon,

nylon.

It’s easy to get lost—

in mind,

in life.

The underworld never ends—

falling forever,

lost in freefall,

free for all to watch and do nothing,

free from help,

targeted inaction.

The soil, marked with faces,

molds of noses and eyes.

No hands to catch you,

just watching,

seeing.

She falls through the ground—

alone.

She falls through the ground—

surrounded.

She falls through the ground—

Forever.