Jul 2015
When I die,
I do not want vacuous truths at my written eulogy.
I do not want people hear lies about me.
“She was beautiful.”
I am not. I was not.
Beautiful people knew how to dress.
They do not act like an awkward mess.
“She was strong and brave.”
I am not. I was not.
Strong and brave people do not cry themselves to sleep.
They do not consider themselves as a heap
“She was smart.”
I am not. I was not.
Smart people are not afraid of choices they make.
They are confident about the risks they take.
Before I die,*
I want you to know that I am dull, anxious and dumb.
I am broken and small like a piece of crumb.
I do not want vacuous truths at my written eulogy.
I do not want people hear lies about me.
“She was beautiful.”
I am not. I was not.
Beautiful people knew how to dress.
They do not act like an awkward mess.
“She was strong and brave.”
I am not. I was not.
Strong and brave people do not cry themselves to sleep.
They do not consider themselves as a heap
“She was smart.”
I am not. I was not.
Smart people are not afraid of choices they make.
They are confident about the risks they take.
Before I die,*
I want you to know that I am dull, anxious and dumb.
I am broken and small like a piece of crumb.
