I want all shooters at my funeral
Only real niggas at my funeral
It's gonna be ten thousand bitches at my funeral
-Shy Glizzy
She stood at the casket staring down at her lover. She smiled at the great work that they did.
"They did such a great job." She thought to herself.
Hearing the church music and smelling faint amounts of Este Lauder perfume coming from the church mothers she just stared.
He was lifeless but for the life of her she couldn't bring herself to look away. She'd go home alone and be encapsulated by his memories and that's what scared her the most.
She held his hand just looking at him in deep awe and confusion as tears finally streamed down her beautifully painted face.
"How did we get here baby?"
