I wish I could throw away my thoughts
In a rubbish bin once and for all,
Unconcerned that they won’t come back,
Buried along with an eternity of
Plastic bottles, styrofoam, cellphones, lightbulbs and ziplock bags.
But like them, they won’t go away.
Perhaps I could try and recycle them like broken glass
Or put them in the waste,
Broken dreams being composted
That won’t become the anxiety of my son’s son,
Or my child’s career.
And me when I die
Let my body rot away inside a grave
My mind scattered,
My soul divided
With the choices I made,
That will make parents ask why
Their three year old became the way she is,
Or remark how he’s just like her mother’s mom,
Or reminds him of great uncle John.
In my life I want to create nothing that will last,
No karma for the future,
And no haunting where someone might claim,
He did this.