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if I die,
I know that my eulogy
would be read aloud
by my biological family
with tears in their eyes
and sad, solemn voices.

it’s scary to think
that if I die,
my eulogy would be read
by the same people who
once wished for my death.
She bites her fingers; she likes pressing down on the skin until marks of real life are left behind. 

The flowers sprouting underneath her nail want to taste air. 

However, she enjoys cutting the circulation off for an odd reason...

We do not need tears to water the soil, for the rain serves a purpose.

There would be more women than men who could contribute to the drought, but don’t be surprised when you see opposite identities; accept it in the form of respect at a funeral.

Everyone cries, even if they want to be formidable after the death rattle concludes the show.

With the woman, she refused a peaceful rest for an odd reason.

She held restraint in wanting to follow in line; she was in love with disobeying.

The shepherds observed without influencing the individual’s thoughts.

They did not need to enact upon anything, for they were already confident in the outcome’s future. 

Having life wanting to start a new journey with her, she accepts in rejecting what she considers ‘foul play’.

Mushrooms strangely begin to make an appearance around her shoulders and abdomen.

Even if her soul wanted to stay connected to this world, her body was no longer in shape to serve as a host.

Rigor mortis left the funeral quite early. 

Riddled with the perfume of disease, the creatures knew it was time to digest the body.

The woman did not want to accept that her body helped fertilized the world... 

She never intended or planned to help the world, not even a single innocent thought was ever empathetic.

Indeed, the female was self-centered, but she never learned that tending to others was important.

The woman was never taught how to love, so she died lonely in the end.

Those who were by her side were creatures and life, taking her away into the soil of the world. 

Was there any love in her system?

No, but her allowing her body to become a meal was a display of love in the end.

Sacrificing cremation allowed her to rest easy, even if she was subjugated to events that may have weakened her mind gradually over time. 

Although she had weakness in mind, she was a star in her own show: the funeral.
Perhaps it was in December or January,
When a greying mob member tumbled down the stairs.
Perhaps, they said, it was because he was old and weary,
They told me “Do not speak”, for fear I would meddle in their affairs.

They told me “Do not look”,
For fear that I would empathise and find, what a cold dead body could yield.
To look into the grey glass eyes of a wife abusing crook,
For I would find the last embers of a carefree child in the fields.

I've been to several of these before,
The monotony of incense crackle and firecracker smoke.
They dance nonchalantly around in circles, performing their sacred rituals,
Throwing dirt with their mouths and hands upon the dead and living.

Will they weep at my funeral
Or will they snicker and say good riddance?
Random stranger reading my honey drenched eulogy,
Why so cynical?
Am I the only happy nihilist out there
Oh, will you cry happy tears at my funeral?
Here lies a liar
Because the liar lied here.
Now the liar's stable,
For the liar's not able,
To equivocate and lie.
And I hope there are no military honors, like gun salutes, when it happens.
xiǎo jūn Sep 25
no one cares what you do on your last day on earth
except everyone else left behind to carry the hurt

im not saying its a free pass to do evil
i only wish to do good onto people

so is passing away bittersweet?
happy for me and sad for thee?

or is that why we celebrate
we all knew along the way
that this was fate

each one is different
just a shade of memories

i cannot be insensitive
some are taken entirely to early

so does anyone truly care
what you do on your last day on earth?

embracing the next step of the cycle
as you enter a new birth

while everyone else is left
behind to carry the hurt

and im not saying its a free pass to do evil
i only want to do good unto people.

just something ive come to think on
as i drive through Kentucky feeling withdrawn
Dhanya Chawla Sep 23
welcome to the funeral
the funeral of our love
it was a tragic and painful scene
like when a little puppy that comes under a speeding truck
whimpering and crying under all the weight
slowly crushing to it’s end

you don’t want to leave, do you?
all you can say now is that you’re sorry
but how can i stay when i see the casket that lays right in front of me
one that doesn’t even deserve the red roses i loved so much
it wasn’t the roses that were dear to me, it was the feeling of joy that filled me when you gave them to me
“when did it all go so wrong?” you ask
“i don’t know” i say
but it’s a lie. i know exactly when
it died when you spent your hours with her more than you did with me
it died when you laughed on her jokes more than you did on mine
it died when you misused my trust
it died when you kissed her just like you used to kiss me

and here i am, today
visiting the grave again and again
i can’t help myself, can i?
after all, it seems that i’m the only one who mourns our loss
Never knew you
Never even said hi
I wasnt even there
When you said your last goodbye
I never got to see your face
Or hear you speak a word
But heard of you from a friend
Of your life and who you were
Another smile
Another day
Another tear
You shed away
I was never there
But other people were
Gone but not forgotten
We all send up a prayer
Maybe it was the mental state
Maybe it was the diversity
I wonder what went through your head
In those final moments
When you decided
You were better off dead
On Friday last week, a person from my school (Fist name, Angel) committed suicide. Although I never knew them personally, I am saddened because nobody should ever do that. Whatever he thought in those last moments, whatever went through his mind, just know that none of whatever it was was worth it. If you need help please talk to someone, anyone. Your life is worth living and I would know. I used to be in a bad place in life where all I thought about is wanting to die, if i got out of it then anyone can. Prayers to Angel.
Myrrdin Aug 20
It does not end abruptly, nor is it brief.
It begins with sleeping in too late,
Sometimes lunch or dinner is forgotten,
Laughter sounds hoarse, even forced
They didn't do up their seatbelt yesterday,
Pharmacies will call for missed refills,
They won't make plans for next month,
Eventually they won't make plans at all,
When is the last time they showered?
Did you see them eat the other day?
Is their phone off?
Have you heard anything?
Amanda Aug 10
Bury who I was
Down beneath the dirt
Laying rest to lost innocence I will never get back

Begin the funeral procession
Pay respects to another naive heart
Poet who felt too much
One dreamer who still believed true love existed

Close the casket
Lower me in
Girl I used to be is gone
Below six feet of mistrust and betrayal

She died the moment you left
Written 8-18-15
Jordan Gee Aug 1
on the day of the double funeral I stand
waiting for the rest of me to die,
I am that I am but I harbor a bad disease.
i should be anywhere and be doing anything other
than what i am.
because before Abraham was i am
standing in the empty quarter
reading a funeral manual on the
day of the double sky burial.
i’m poisoned off my pouch of yesterday’s mana.
gums are bleeding this is yesterday’s daily bread.
men cannot live off bread alone
and the jackrabbit horde is coming home
our own locust plague for a new Sahara.
i stand with a hangman’s fracture
lost on the old sermons in the sand.
following my family’s footsteps sadly in the wrong direction,
lost among the marking rocks.
snow leopards of the black blizzard and
my poison pouch of mana.
drowning in the fires we cook a stray dog
reaping all the whirlwinds I sound a 12 foot Tibetan horn
on the day of a double funeral -
perched in the dwelling of the solitude.
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