Death
is theatrical
My funeral becomes
the globe theatre
I become
language
all the actors swarm
I sink to the dirt
Show in black so i can see,
my art is Perfected,
I try to escape this world but the masks capture me
I do not belong
I don't belong on earth or in hell or in heaven.
Burning would be peaceful!
I just do not belong.
I cannot walk on water
I cannot tell the good from the bad
I only see in black
I must quench my thirst to be one in the grass
To become the mud that dirties your shpe
I must relinquinsh my hunger to be the water you drink
I must join the stream
My death, like all things
is theatre
See my production
I have Perfected
"Why would you die?"
I want to feel alive in this world of black dear child
My white tulips have wilted
as I have seen my lack of desire
Death contains only life
it feels the lack of
I want to feel my life for one last second
before I feel nothing
As i lay in the grass
I know what I become
I embrace death.
