People want to scare me with death.

I’m dead already,

People talking ill of me without any fear of penalty.

Others put me on a pedestal,

The ashes burned from effigy,

My urn, my all,

Except my soul.

I smile.

What else can I do?

I’m coming to haunt you,

And I will

Til you come and live with me,

Disembodied,

Out of control,

And happy,

As a leaf blowing off its tree.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...

I’ve got nothing but time for you now.

How do you feel?

Hey! Wait!

People don’t speak ill of the dead,

So maybe I’m alive, I guess?

I’m gonna haunt you anyway!

Til you come and live with me!

Out of control and happy

As a leaf blowing off its tree.

-jenn