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When I am Dead MAG
When I am dead, my dearest, don’t stick my bones
together with Scotch tape. Do not try to fit them
underneath a frame. Use them, one by one,
as a weapon, a gavel. My bones,
they can be good back scratchers, honey mixers,
and hands of clocks.
You can toss them across space
and see how far they’ll glide until another hand
slips across it. When I am dead, dearest,
thread my bones to the top of a mountain.
The next time you arrive at a glass sea,
spill it boldly. Spell your life in two parts,
watch them float until they descend
like a weight down into that container.
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This article has 406 comments.
hey, 'thedude, get a friggin life! wats wrong with u? if u dont like something, either dont comment or do it better instead of messing up the entire comment page w/ ur complaints! we didnt come on here to see ur jealousy, u could never write something like this!
-rose
this is writen so beautifully. You did an amazing job =D
please read some of my work, thanks.
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