I can see it
Just as the day I arrived
November leaves decorating freshly dug soil
Fluttering down onto a tombstone
From bright and vivid
To crumbling and dead
Someday I’ll die
The thought is so strange to have in my skull
Wrapped around a case of pink fleshy synapses
Everyone dies
I see it around me
From behind tempered glass and blurry corneas
“I’m sorry”s from a chapped and dull mouth
To every lover of a lifeless corpse
Dressed in silk and lace
Skin so pale it glows with false rejuvenation
When I die
I want to be buried in rosewood
My coffin filled with petals and bluebell skeletons
So that when I am unearthed
I am covered in the rancid stink of rot
That is not just my own
Larvae birthed in my hollow womb
Giving life to the cycle of death
When you die
I will not be far
Whether I am young or old
I don’t think I could take
Thinking about your beautiful corpse
All alone, in the desolate dirt
Decaying
Deteriorating
Destroyed
By undeserving maggots and writhing scum
Feasting on glorious flesh
Never to know how precious it once was