A burial

Consequences, repercussions, expectations, and … bindings.

I wanna be free, the sort of freedom that needs no earthly presence.

Right now, water is going through my throat, relieving while suffocating, and the air is going through my lungs, detaining my torso.

But I wanna fly, in a way the entire universe wouldn’t approve.

Such freedom is only affordable to the dying and the old … like the inky secretion dripping through the veins of the death, and such thoughts can’t to be spotted by the mortals ... those deterring spells that huant and murder.

But what if, I allow it, this always-been-there, this succulent sort of … displacement, to flow.

It feels like, nothing in the world, ever, is for me, where head is toe, and toes are … incessant snakes, crawling towards different directions.

Let this be my burial, a burial I will readily attend, where I will solemnly swear, and let the curses of my words be the compensation of my childish speculations … of a world of love.