I Hate You I Said

I jumped a bit when the hearse was slammed. My bones were brittle, and I felt quite damned. My flesh was starting to gray up, it gave a laugh. My eyes were sinking, and I felt a draft. She’s not in there, someone assured my kin. I knew it was true because of the shape I was in. I had been confused at the onset of death of course. I was still angry as hell at that run-away horse! Can I see her one last time? A familiar voice said. I was horrified. I did not want this guy to see my body dead. NO! I yelled NO! But did they hear me? Of course not. They opened it up and he yelled “She has some dry rot!” I hate you I said. Get out of my face. You are a worm. I saw him flinch, back up, scream, and finally squirm. Don’t let anyone else see me this way! I told the undertaker. But of course, he did not listen, that sneering give me a hand shaker. How many more times are you going to open this hearse and lid? Why don’t you just toss me in the street? I asked my Uncle Sid. They put me in a hearse and whisked me away in the night. I was relieved when I saw angels and headed straight toward the light.