she delivers her own eulogy
from the casket
a to-do list
a sort of laundering
things to cleanse the world of in her absence
i ask how she prepared for death
she gives me a list
things to bury with me:
myself
regrets
the asks: if i’ve ever thought of being with a man
the man (bury him beneath me—as close to the core as possible. that he may burn with no chance of root/rebirth/resurrection).
the truth
the lie
i write about the molestation
but never the rape
bury the rape
i read it
attempt to talk myself out of death
out of casket
out of trauma
out of nothing
i don’t know
i don’t prepare
this is honest—
to myself
i am the opposite
my influence lives beyond me
to be some-thing / one
to matter
to resonate
idk
i guess—not to be like a person
a dot in the universe—then nothing
idk
if it doesn’t have an ending, i don’t need to end it
what are you?
practical
irrelevant
replace—form new meaning
it has to be a choice (seed, speck, glimmer, spark—become a flame).
frustrating / to have an end
& keep revisiting