Can No One Hear Me?

I don’t want to fragment
into pieces
under some soil.
let me inject liquid metal alloy
into my bones
so I won’t splinter
from a whole
when my body
my self
goes into the ground.

I’m afraid I won’t be recognized
when I finally disintegrate
even marrow
like tendons and vessels
severs over time
under enough pressure,
so please leave me in the future
not the past.
leave me with a chrome cast.
although it entombs,
it’s finer than sleeping
with wooden veins above me.

I don’t want to be dusted
without a second thought
to my name,
my convenient place in the ground,
praise listed all the same.

I want to be clanged and gasped at,
reviled, disgusting to look at
as they uncover
what metal frame
I’ve twisted around my remains.
let them cry out, recoiling
from my marks in the earth
a 6 foot incision
a void to make their eyes hurt.

please don’t take me from myself.
with soil. roots.
don’t break me apart
without remorse,
because my being can’t take
being apart from itself.

Why take me?
Why not leave me be?

How ironic is this plea,
to leave you be.
I despair for your existence,
pity your experience,
loathe your complaint of weight
on your shoulders.
when in totality,
You are nothing.
Now sleep, your valley waits for you.

Please leave me be… home return