I'm done being done with a funeral.

Fold your sheets as you topple down the stairwell.
Well enough
i heard,
are the attempts for keeping your home.

Fold your hands on the bed as you teeter
far enough
to hear
the attempts you made making you.

I am a suitcase that's always packed.
Mom made me a sandwich and had a laugh.

I saw you like my mother
I can't ever get her back
when she's buried with the others
and I'm dressed in only black.

Face the sun and say it should've been you.
It will be soon.

If you find some worth in your shoes
I know you couldn't spare it
even if you would.

Reviews

[eglantine]

hmmm very nice control of meter... I kind of want "would" in the last line to be "should." I really enjoyed the third and fourth stanza. Well done :)

[Chris]

I've read this four times and am about to start again. I like the title. I taste anger and a wry sense of humor. I really don't know all the references as they apply but I feel frustration and a sense of personal hurt.

[dukovan]

yeah this was just a one crack it sort of write...like most of them. i think I'm going to revist this throughout the day and make some more sense out of it for myself.
i liked the title too, its a lyric in a song. to me its about facing the funerals instead of hiding from them. Its important to feel stuff.

[dukovan]

Lol anger with a wry sense of humor sounds like me.