by jackson small
@smalljac44 on instagram
I do not want to be mourned
when I am gone from this life,
on to the next, with my feet in the
Ether and the sand, do not grieve, for I will not obey.
I will see every hue, fromÂ
this plane thereafter, decorateÂ
my bruises of bereft in
glory and splendor, but I will wishÂ
you were here.
do not lament I, who hasÂ
sacrificed for no larger aÂ
purpose than themself
flayed by a rationalizing world,Â
a planet reaching the zenithÂ
from which it will never revive.
do not sorrow over I, who was notÂ
meant for this Earth, and every nail struckÂ
to the perilous hull of this ark, called by weÂ
to conduct our security, and
let us drink our horrid relief
so he may tell us we merely
hold our cup wrong.
do not bemoan I, who isÂ
liberated, unyoked of
servitude to the false deity within.
heart, pulse as a fiend, tongue, speak what
language you heed and I will attend,
fingernails, grow if you must!
I am denounced by the disingenuousÂ
human circumstance, and my body hasÂ
gone cold, so take myÂ
ribs, but leave the rest for theÂ
field mice and the bobcats.
do not mourn I, who is finally home.
a note from the artist-
"when i was writing this poem, i was experiencing a lot and just overall trying to justify my existence in the world that felt like it never really had a place for me. this poem details death, and the desire to leave this planet to find acceptance within oneself."