I am an empty shell, carry me to the grounds. I am the shelf people place books onto but not read as one, boxed with memories, dogeared with saliva.
Law students would be jealous of my own rules, washing onto the shores of the beached houses, wandering around like a smile looking for it’s lost teeth
Found, blind sided by my own dose of love, golden flowers wildly appearing next to the graves my mind has so wonderfully dug themselves into underneath the old pollinated oaks
Take my body and rest it against the mountains and watch the vultures swoop in and have a go at me. Devour me and swallow my skin covered body bag.
Bones attached to the limbless socket that they call a walking corpse. Eyes all on me, all eyes on those creatures with deadly ripping wings and whipped shot ears. Cackling, they scratch into me, dig unto me and laugh.
Those vultures have a laugh now, a wicked evil scour, they watch me lay there lifeless, jello like. I smile and thank them for releasing my soul to the wild, with the flap that is my mouth skin.
I couldn’t have lived without this to look forward to.