Taphology

At the end of it

I know exactly how I want it done

I'll dress it up fancy for the ones the task may fall to

"I want to return to the earth

I want to nourish Mother Nature

I want my essence to be carried to the sun in the leaves of a great tree"

A truthful glamour to make my plan palatable

At the end of it

I won't be pretty

It shouldn't be pretty

We are so removed from ourselves as nature

We hide it

Sneak it away under a blanket

Into a lead lined chest

Into a decorative jar

We put it in a concrete box with a syringe full of formaldehyde in case someone should look

Not for me

At the end of it

Wrap me in a cotton sheet

And leave me somewhere green (with permission)

So my invisible stowaways can feast and transform me

So the carrion crows can feed their chicks

Let my skin shrink back so my hair seems to have grown

And starts supernatural rumours about my afterlife

Let the foxes scatter my framework

Until only a depression in the soil and an abundance of wild plants says I was ever there at all

Don't hide the decay

Don't make me pretty

Let me rest and rot in peace