I hope my words were

shadows of my deeds.

And I hope,

I outlived everyone

I ever loved.

And no one

gathered around my grave

ever knew me.

That there would

be no pain

left as remnant

of my peace.

Ding dong the bitch

is dead

Which old bitch?

This old bitch

Ding dong the bitchy bitch is dead!!

Wake up - she's brain dead

Clap your hands

Put her to rest

Celebrate the bitchy bitch is dead!!

Ding dong the merry-oh

The bitch will never bitch again

She's CROAKED!!!

He certainly wasn't the best at anything, though he tried. It's something, perhaps, that he was best at: trying. He tried many things. He'd probably wish he tried more. But the one thing, I think we can all agree, he definitely should not have tried...was to wrestle that alligator. 

He was a restless man,

fearful his ink would evaporate like water,

disappearing into the celestial void

along with his last breath.

And although his eyes are now

veiled by fleshy shutters

and his muscles shall twitch nevermore,

his spirit remains restless. 

The neighborhood of Catlanta will be eternally grateful to Maria Iqbal, who passed away while attempting to tame a ferocious feline beast ravaging the neighborhood upholstery. Her last words will stay with us forevermore, “ITS SO FLUFFY, I’M GONNA DIEE”. We knew her to be always true to her word.  

She wildly blazed with searing heat

flared love and emotion into sultry air

cleared darkness so sun could beam

chiseled a notch to leave her spark

fiery words and serious writings

painted wildfire stroked on canvas

flames of laughter and smolders of grief

waft ignited essence to next generation.

This Is

Not

my Eulogy

Fool

This Dirge

Is For

you

a Song

I Sing

As

the Worms

Eat

Their Food

Laughing

At

the Thought

This Was

Supposed

To Be

my Box

Nothing

but Rocks

Soon

It Will

Be you

#B27321

"Despite Appearances

Allison remained Hopeful

Fiercely independent

Rebellious and Loving

And so Empathic

To all Things

The Empathy followed her

Hovering like Burden

But in the End

It held Her Hand

As She Forgave herself

For Her difficult Decision

To take Her own Life

So, don't be sad. It's ok.

Love,

Allison"

My 8 year old self died on a beach.

I last remember the grit of St. Augustine sand in my teeth.

Mother's cigarette smoke -

     raspy laugh

     curly, red hair ablaze.

For my mother, 

only my ghost roams those dunes now. 

Still, no one mourns that girl like I do.