Sunflowers face where the sunshine goes, but I nestle where the dandelions grow. And although my tears wet the soil, I stomp the dirt down and bury it in my soul. Watching me decompose into its thieving hands, all I can do is wait. Wait as my bloody and bruised body becomes food for the worms, food for the critters. 

Dandelions surround my once free self, encasing it in its own version of a web. Cursing at the moonlit sky, I pray that the worms don’t eat me alive. My brain rots away as more and more dirt sheathes me from the outside world. Concealing me from the sunshine that sunflowers adore. But sunshine can’t find its way over to me and I can’t find my way out of the dark.

And yes, I know dandelions are stunning but looks can be deceiving. But I swear, you shouldn’t get attached. It’ll only end in catastrophe. 

You don’t want to be dragged down into the dirt, into the earth, alongside me. We’ll both become food for the worms, food for the critters. We’re nothing but a pile of rotting flesh, a pile of food for them.

Perhaps the worms don’t want to be fed. Perhaps they just want to be around something, around someone. Maybe they just want some company, but company is not always the best solution. Maybe being alone is best for the worms, for the critters, for you and I. But alas, the worms stay.

They wriggle up and down my spine, my body, trying to find a place to rest. They can’t though. Every single spot the worms go to doesn’t feel right to them.

Is it me?

Is it my spine?

Is it my body?

Is it because the soil I’m buried in is wet or not wet enough?

I can’t figure it out. It’s all a  mystery to me. 

Do you want to know what else is a mystery to me? Why did no one that I was close with realize that I was gone? Do they not care? Are the worms and the critters the only things that care about me now? Who am I kidding? It’s obvious that it’s true because someone would’ve realized I was gone. I left footprints next to my so-called grave. Someone could’ve visited me here but no one did. My grave was also made last minute and no one, not even a soul, came to see me get lowered six feet under.

I guess I’m truly alone now. I’m alone in this universe, only to be surrounded by the critters that dwell inside me. 

I don’t want it to end like this but it has to. My body will soon rot. I can’t change that. I’ll wait here, wait for the sun to set and for the darkness to swallow me whole. Waiting for my body to become a forgotten relic in a forgotten past, I let the worms and dandelions encase me.

When I’m gone, these worms will carry on my story.

My name will be whispered in the wind.