I’m so incredibly scared of Death,
yet falling into old age seems unbearable
and I would at least like to look good in my casket.
If I surrender myself to you, Death,
will I fall gracefully?
The scythe I put to my own skin
beats the reaper
and saves him the trouble
of getting rid of another lifeless soul.
I’d haunt my mother
to apologize for taking away the gift of life that she gave me.
My memorial card would be an apology letter to anyone whose life I’ve crawled into on bruised and blistered knees.
At my funeral,
I do not want flowers
For if anyone wanted to give them to me,
they would’ve done it while I was alive.
I do not want a celebration of life.
I do not want anyone to mourn.
I just wish to be rid of this world
that has been so good to others.
I hope that I am greeted by the god
who has never answered to me.
So I could show him
the product of his neglect.