Don’t bury me here

Under this stretch of sky.

Beneath the trees that overhang the hill

Beside the creek that harbours eels.

I do not want to die

In the place I ran from.

It feels like a secret,

This tiny graveyard,

Hidden from a busy world.

One day it may all be houses.

For years, I had the same dream,

Hiding, trying to escape,

Feeling unsafe.

And each time I woke,

Alive, and far away,

I was a little more free.

Even now, when I drive past,

I can’t stop my heart kicking up gravel,

Coating my car in dust so I won’t be found.