Rocks in a Garden

I buried my rocks,
Because others were sharper.
If I didn't,
All the rocks would've collided and shattered.
Like glass;
Unstable, unpredictable, glass.

That's why I buried my rocks
Deep in my garden.
But now I can't find them,
No matter how far i dig,
Scrape,
Or grasp.

I can't find a crumb.
I shake and shiver,
Because no matter how ugly,
The rocks were important to me.
And I've forgotten
What they look like.

In a haze
I know my rocks are there.
I put them there myself,
They're covered,
Blinded.
By an unknown sheet.

But I can still feel them.
Cutting
Tearing me from inside out.
Like my lungs have been pricked,
My heart has been diced.

Diced and scattered,
Throughout my body,
Deep down in my core.
Like rocks,
Torn apart,
And buried throughout

the dirt of a garden.