indigos journal

(most of us don’t actually want to be buried. we would prefer cremation.)

I want to be buried naked.
As you come into this world (alone, unloved)
So you shall leave (alone, unloved)
I want to be buried with my eyes open
Searching for the thing I never found.
I want to be buried in the sunshine
Atop a grassy hill.
A day full of hope
That never did shine.
I want to lay at rest atop that hill
Overlooking the great expanse of ocean
Whose storms I knew too well
Whose calm I knew not enough.