Wilting flowers dying slow.
Dying dying
No,
I can smell the death in this house
Not death like rotting
Death like antiseptic
And clean bedding.
Soap and florescent lights
To heat a dying body.
Curled up like a grown fetis
Ready to birth into death
We came into this world screaming
But we leave it with no fire.
We have nothing left to give
When the ashes fall and smoke rises we are only what we did.
But nobody remembers.
So nobody should care.
We die just like this
As if we were never there