when i die

when i die, i will die alone. no muss, no fuss. crawl into this big dark hole i'd have already dug and just close my eyes and do it. i'll bring some soil down on top of me and let the rain do the rest. when the kitten died, the dog pushed the loose earth into her grave after her. maybe there will be a dog or a bear or an army of mice to nose the earth over my body when i go. but not my dog or bear or army of mice; i will not leave anyone needing anything from me. i will have pre-seeded the soil with wildflower seeds so the springtime will remember me and the honeybees will keep me some company.

it's possible that when i die i will find a way to set myself ablaze and push off to sea. at half before midnight, on a full moon night as the earth is pushing through a meteor shower. the aurora borealis, the northern lights would be nice too, but i don't want to get ice locked on my way to open sea. i want to hear whale songs deep beneath me and feel the humming of the great red squid as she slides past my burning pyre. the electric jellies, and, oh, the whales will swim with me singing until all of my earthly light has gone and then they will prayer me to the sky or the stars or into the salt air, wherever is the place i am meant to go.

or maybe when i die i will have wrapped myself tight in grey cotton and i will plummet, gracefully, into the red heart of volcano.

or i will drop to my knees to be torn apart by grateful sweet-eyed wild dogs.

or i will be sealed in a block of ice, deep under the ocean surface, frozen until the creatures not to be born for a thousand years discover me melting on their beach. they will wonder if i am an alien or something from their exotic pre-history.

or i will offer myself up to the giant mama spider, the one crossing the dirt road with a hundred babies on her back, and she will web me up tight and lovely and i will feed her family through this season and the next. i will be reborn eight-legged and wise, my heart set on spinning the most beautiful of webs.


(freewrite: list of secrets: 20 minutes
1. i am probably dying, that's my guess
2. my plan to move to the desert or forest or into the middle of nowhere is my secret plan to die alone
3. i might want to have a baby
...
8. i am living the wrong life. i think there are some people who know this, and i avoid them)