Paper Columns

Bury Me Shallow

Bury me shallow
In an open grave around the spring flowers
So that when it rains
It feels more like a bathtub and less like a cemetery.
Kiss my forehead once the birds go silent
And the moon sings instead
Hold my hand instead of grudges,
I didn't mean to speak storms instead of clouds.
My fuel filled brain wasn't ready for your flaming eyes
And I
I wasn't as ready for death as I thought I was
Is this really the end?
The end doesn't smell of autumn and feels like sunsets
Not at all.