BURY ME IN MY COMPUTER, SPREAD MY PIXELS BEHIND THE WIRES.
I tell Téa how my post went viral on tumblr only after
deactivating & she says it’s like publishing poetry posthumously,
& how we could both turn famous once we die. I do still want to
return to Tumblr just for the drama of resurrection: I thank the people
who waited for me all these years & say hi. But honestly
all my favorite people know I’m still alive. I just crave the strangers
who once reblogged my posts to adore me again & again, like a motor
turning over. I do still measure myself in past tense, my bad.
Anyone who misses the old me believes I’m still trying to go back,
& some nights I believe it, too, so I lay in bed & listen to “The Funeral”
& pretend this is it, I’ve lasted long enough, everyone who loved me knew me
wrong. Or not. I have some faith that I am more than a bottle of blood, that if you hung me
up, there’d be a crowd livestreaming beneath me, crying
O! What a gorgeous day for mourning. I remain because I must.
When I die, my body will exhume love like dust.
It will spring out as petals & be hard to inhale. O!
Everyone will hate the scents of rotten flowers that should’ve been
plastic, but I’ve always been too sincere.