When I Die

When I die speak not of my joy,

To those my pain remains unsung

Spin me into that web and feature the spiders I met along the way

Speak not of promises made to loved ones that hold those dear -

Speak to the coyotes in the hen house and shoot them dead.

My funeral should be a massacre,

As the day ends my sparks should set ablaze

All the places that forbade me and the sights I wished were illusions.

Dress me in my finest robes,

The darkest black lips kiss the promises of tomorrow,

The brightest rouge blush of a tomorrow lost,

Kill them all, for they do not deserve to speak of my fall.

- Mo Wisdom