Don't Step on the Flowers

I've become scared to get attached to anything because everything is not permanent

I will leave all of this one day.

The trees

The blue sky

My parents

Friends that I enjoy

Clothes

That rug I found on sale

Everything I have and everything that I surround myself with

And all the material items that we use to define ourselves as humans

My converse that I have decided describe my perfect aesthetic

The laundry hamper that has tears in it

My toothbrush will be thrown away

What the f*ck is gonna happen to the food in my fridge?

I’m scared

All of this will be left.

Is the stuff maybe leaving me?

Is the world leaving me instead?

Because it’s decided that I am no longer needed.

I’ve fulfilled my divine purpose.

Mother Nature, with the afro and golden branches, what did I do to deserve this?

My hand is being pulled into a dark hole. I drift into oblivion

I think I might be having a crisis

Why cast my soul out into the cold outline-less hands of time and space? Am I just gonna drift there? Turning lights on and off as a ghost?

I know no one–even some suicidal people–

Who would voluntarily leave all of this

It’s an exodus, into a world

We didn’t even know existed

everything that they know they transcended from?

I cannot accept

I cannot express

How scared and tense and empty I look in that dress

This very cute dress is gonna cheat on me

This body that I’m renting out

Is gonna flow all of its juices, muscles, and fluid

right into and through the ground

The minerals of my teeth

The keratin in my eyes

No casket can preserve the body from decaying

All of the skin, all of the cells that I think are mine

Will leave me in due time

Betrayed

Maybe I’ll be a pretty flower one day

Orange or pink or blue

It doesn’t really matter

I just have one favor to ask of you

Don’t step on the flowers