Dirt.

Dirt.

4 letters.

Contamination.

Unclean.

Brown.

Ugly.

Nobody wants it.

The earth is full of it.

Extremely common.

Unoriginal.

Foul.

Filler.

I'm tired of hearing dirt. Every time I walk in I hear it. I walk out to get relief, but still it echoes off the walls and filters through the cracks in the door. It dusts each surface and lingers like stale smoke. Infiltrating. Penetrating. Grasping. Do I have to go back in? Its necessary, pertinent and pressing that I re-enter.

Dirt this. Dirt that. A face full of dirt is what you are. She is a dirty idiot, and I can't believe he dirty did that.

I say dirt because it's like, "like". A filler. A descriptor. A dirty descriptor.

It wears on me. It eats at me. It decomposes and decays me.

They dig me a hole, make me stay, lock the doors and pile dirt on my head for hours on end.

A grave is where I'm at.

Take me to where it is clean. Take me out of this dark atmosphere. Someplace that is void of dirt and full of life and light. Where my soul can be uplifted and encouraged and far from the scum, the repetitive noise of all the dirt.

Can you say nothing else? Is there no more intelligence in you to think of something higher, something more meaningful than that of which we try to rid ourselves every day.

You wash yourself clean each morning. The soap washes it all away. How do you feel? Calmed. Soothed. Pleasantly pure. Why ruin that? Why defile yourself. Is it because it is what is within you? Unable to be washed away by the soap. Too embedded to be scrubbed? It is purged from your bowls and vomited up in even your most common or innocent of statements? Disregarded as something that holds no meaning or weight? If that is the case, why does each particle pile on my shoulders and become so heavy? Can't you see you're hurting me? My back is breaking but you don't care. It is beyond your control. You argue your rights and defend your perspective.

"It is a free country we live in. I can do and say as I please. Even if it is nothing but dirt. DIRT !"

DIRT DIRT DIRT DIRT. Did you hear me Sarah?! I said Dirt !

To You I give my life. My very being. You see my hurt. You feel my pain. You know my heart. Through this I will only be strengthened. I cannot be defeated.

The dirt may weigh heavy on my back, but through You ALL things are possible.