Put Me In The Ground

Keep hearing them crying, but I can’t feel it in the way that I did before. All this fuss. Coming and going. Opening the drawer, closing the drawer. A man and a woman sewed me up, and fixed me up, after I became undone. And now I wait.

Darkness, light. Darkness, light.

Surrounded by metal and feel frozen by chemicals. Fluids and potions have been applied to me. This cannot be right. Humans have become something alien and I should not be with them anymore. My time has come. My time has come to be with God.

Suddenly somehow wheeled out and on display. I do remember all my pretty dear ones, except it feels now that it was all so long ago, and yet it was only days ago I was laughing and crying and talking and being with them.

There is music, and then there are speeches, and tears. A few seem to be taking this very hard, and the others are attempting to reassure them. The music conjures this strange sense of déjà vu. I know these sounds meant a lot, once. But now is now. Now, I don’t feel it.

Something is calling me elsewhere,

I am not meant to be here

Put me in the ground, let me be in the earth, my bedchamber. Let me be with all the tiny quiet things that wriggle and writhe and mutate and grow and change form. I need to change form. I contain the cosmos; I need to be freed and feel every atom that I once was. Every electric charge. Let my remains dance.

Let the ivy crawl over me and bring me the night-time.

Fires, starlight, the ocean - it all belongs to me now, and I belong to it.

I know that when I was on their side of the wall, I had such a good time, even if sometimes it hurt.

Now that time is gone

Release me

Go and live, as you are meant to do.