Funeral today.
Ending to a life--which is just silly how it all happened.
The ending, not the life.
For a man who joked about everything
wanting laughter in almost every moment in life
to have such a somber departing was the worst.
Don't stare at me, old lady, for laughing at some of the silliest arm motions he did
all the time.
Tears flowed, and people chained smoked
when they saw the open coffin
for a wrecked body.
All the while, precious harp melodies tugged at your fragile heart.
So here,
take this:
I want people to laugh when I die. Endings are so depressing, and people shouldn't be sad.
[I really just want to go on another adventure]
There should be awesome music to make people want to live
because what's the point in dying if you don't enjoy life
or strike that
reverse it.
Personal space bubbles become nothing when tears are involved.
Is this hug to help me or you
or both of us
saying 'we're together'
for once.
Oh, connections.
Funerals for recognizing the dead and placing them as other,
raising them up
fully separates them from us. [At least, it is supposed to]
The unspoken last words to a puttied corpse, and we are supposed to move on
nothing to see here, folks.
But, even if you broke off a finger, carried it around your neck and whispered sweet nothings to it,
they wouldn't be back and you don't want to really do that. So take those few hours, say nothing to mean everything, and go back to living tomorrow.
Another beginning, however different this chapter is.