« These moments are funerals to me. »
Past they are, past they remain, past they will remain.
And yet a visit to thr cemetery from time to time for another funeral is welcome.
But yet nothing will change the deadly tone of the lethal funeral.
Yet in such repeated funerals there is lying deep under at least six feet of mud and slime the nutrients, the energy, the promise of a future.
A future for my soul
A future for my mind
A future for my being
Because I cannot be but in myself, in my soul, in my mind, in my being.
The tears of the funeral are the watering for my being, becoming, living
But who am I to say that?
Too autistic to tell anyone what they have to believe.