Girl's fear

If I died now

Air pulled out

Slipped, because I looked up for too long

Plummeted from a building

Tripped, or fell

and the blood doused the gravel

What would become of me?

 

It would be like premature sleep

Sleep to rest

For a very, very long time

Maybe I wouldn’t even realise

The state of my body

no longer,

A carcass laden with purple meat and thick bones.

 

At this point, it could be any meat

A cow’s, a pig’s

 

Would it taste the same?

 

If my nose and lips were nowhere to be found

If the fingers were severed from the palm 

I would be just another putrid animal 

Died by accident

Black wheels on bruised skin.

What a shame!

 

But would it taste the same?

 

It’s not a question of cannibalism

Death is as macabre as the Birth of a grimy child

As macabre as the horrible thump of dirt as it is poured 

into a deep dark hole

 

As macabre as macabre can be.

 

At least flesh is soundless 

Digested, liquid and it won’t make noise.

 

If I died now

Would the grief replenish?

Would tears quench my dessicated cheeks 

Cracked and cracked and cracked

Too withered and foul to be beautiful. 

 

Would heavy groans of despair satisfy the silence 

Once strangers file out of the dim, desolate 

Chalk white room?

 

“I am sorry. Terribly sorry.” 

 

The hollowness draws back in, except the hot touch of my mother

Older, yet younger

Her skin the pretty colour of life, mine of murky water.

 

She is angry, she scolds me with her glass eyes. 

but there is nothing left to do. 

 

Please

           Mama

                           Shutmeaway

                                                        now.