When I was little
I burnt my thumb
trying to use a lighter

Now I’m bigger
And I have scars
on my knuckles

Birth is innocence
Death is the truth you spent your life lying to achieve

The silly bit in between
...

                                                    ­               You tell me

the silence
hurts more
than the
words that
caused it

if
 everything
  was
   forever,
    if
     we
      managed
       to
        ****
         aging,
          and
           stay
            up
             infinitely
              past
               bedtime,
                would
                 that
                  really
                   change
                    so
                     much
                      ?

Bury me,
On a quiet,
hidden hilltop,

Bury me,
At the roots of a thick cherry blossom tree,
It’s species closer to extinction yet,

Bury me,
Surrounded by autumns metamorphosis,
In the mist of a sunset,

Bury me,
Where nature dices the ground into messy,
Unfair portions,
And a crowded forest clashes with the fields below,

Bury me,
Where my name will no longer serve a legacy,
And my corpse will rot without an audience,

Bury me,
In a shallow grave,
Where no church bells can be heard,

Bury me,
Where the bitter fragrance of the sea salt can be smelled,
And the old fisherman’s stories echo through acres of midnight,

Bury me,
At the peak of Scotland’s emptiness,
With your own two hands,
Brother,

Bury me,
With a smile