A Funeral of Mistreated Hearts

I often think about my death

How would people react?

I can see my mother becoming even more depressed gently hovering over old baby pictures

I can see my father swallowing down deep gulps of beer until his lungs become an ocean of malted barley

My friends making dirty jokes over my casket yet having soft and brittle tears

My aunt not showing up at my funeral

My cousin finding a rope so he can finally fall asleep

My grandpa walking into traffic as if he was blind

My grandma making more mole that would taste too salty because of her flavorless tears

My girlfriend...

What would you do?

You're unpredictable

I know you would show up to my funeral

I know you would miss me

But how long would it be?

Till you stop loving me

This thought of my death haunts my brain

But its okay

I will soon see what really happens