Sep 2, 2019
Do not bury me in the Earth
I have not loved it as it loved me
Do not scatter me to the wind
I have always closed my coat to its breeze
Do not float me on the ocean
I have never swam beaneath it’s seas
These places that seem right and worthy
They do not mean much to me
So do not pretend my dust is deserving
Do not take me to rolling fields
Do not plant me beneath their dirt
Instead I ask that in my death
I am made as small as I felt in life
Find me a befitting urn or carved wood
And pour what I will be into its arms
I beg you not sit me on any mantle
I will not watch over you in my death
I plead cart me from attic to attic
Do not dare watch over me