Fantasy Farewells

I will dig

my own grave.

The idea of a man

who never even

knew me,

shoveling six feet

into the ground,

is too ironic.

Or maybe

I will set myself

up in flames.

The idea of a cremator

who sees me

as just another body

to ignite,

a number,

is utterly morbid.

Perhaps

I will simply

disappear.

The idea of leaving

all of the souls

with the image

they created of me

in their head

is a form of revenge.