There's a pain in my chest.
I can't shake it.
I must share it.
Because, believe it or not,
everyone likes to hurt a little.

Once I was nothing
but blood
and bones
and guts.
There I am!
See me?
My insides smashed on the pavement
like a squirrel
crushed by your recklessness.

Your ego
it shines brighter than ever.
A gleaming zirconia necklace
"ON SALE FOR JUST 10.99!!"
Go ahead, dull it some
before it turns a neck green.
Bottoms up!
The phone glued to your hand
while there I rot
picked at by birds and stray dogs.

I carry this pain with pride.
I wear it like a conference name tag.
"Hello, my name is
ROADKILL"

Why wouldn't I?
Someone will scrape my bones
off the blacktop
and wear them as jewelry.
My body, my words,
will be their name tag.
Because some can display pain
with pride.
And corpses
feed the soil.

Bloom on.