When I die, at my funeral,
I wasn’t them to know nothing of me.
Not because I was awkward and didn’t share things about myself of anything short of depressing.

Simply because I’d prefer to stay anonymous among the world.

Let the teens have *** in the back closet.
Let the children run around screaming and causing havoc,
distracting them from my drunk uncle.

Let them wonder who Joshua Flores was.
Let them wonder who Lyan Cordova is.