I think about death
I do
Not in the gory suicidal way but in the
"one day I will die....hmmm" way
I've thought about my funeral
I don't want anyone to cry
I wasn't THAT great of a person
But as snarky (and sometimes full of it) as I tend to be
I know
The day that I die will be a sad day
I want flower seeds scattered at the base of my headstone and
my ashes scattered deep in the mountains because I loved my mountains more than anything else Nature had to offer
My mother always said if He can raise people from the dead then he should be able to put people back together from their ashes
So let me be cremated
I never liked the idea of my body being left to rot six feet under anyways
I think about who will be around when I die
I could go at any time so
whether or not my parents will be around to mourn the loss of their child is irrelevant
How much would I have accomplished?
Would I have made an impact on the world like I'd always dreamed I would?
I've thought about my last words
What sound will people hear as I take my last breath?
I hope it will be
"see you soon"
I wonder where I'll be when the time comes
What sound will people actually hear as I take my last breath?
Will it be filled with regret? remorse? happiness?
I think about death.
I do
And as I close this poem, I'll ask you this question
Do you?