longer.blue

Bury me not under your rented suits and dim shade, Far from faces marred by tears and pain. Rest my body wherever you can. Burn it, throw it, drown it, hate it. Whatever suits you. But don't dare let me rest in your artificial mourning or well-tended necropolis. I don't deserve the grace of your God or your warped pride. Let me lay as I am, as wild creature as any, Destined to be but mild prey among predators. Outgrown my ancestors' swiftness and survival, With slow, overthinking sorrow that never faded. But give me that finality alone, And believe whatever gives you strength and hope onward.