Parting Gifts

When I die, let me sprout daisies.

Let mushrooms overrun the overran, 

Peek poignant from my chest 

And pierce through the stretch of purple skin.

Let the gentle turkey vulture tear sustenance

From my breadbox bones,

The passing rat finding warmth in the pit

That once held my stomach.

When I die, let me feed the earth,

Protected from formaldehyde,

The presumptuous fear of rot,

When I die, let me give life,

Let me play God.

About the Author

Justice Cressley is a Senior Creative Writing transfer at Arcadia University. They concentrate on poetry, but have been recently extending their reach into memoir and graphic novels.