It will be a Saturday the day God kills me.
Despite my perfect sanity.
And when I die,
I want you to spread my ashes like thin stones,
thrown across the pond of my legacy.
I know I am barely a nobody.
A well-circumscribed pawn trying to fit in the world like a silk glove,
modeled around my environment.
I know I am a well-conformed self-absorbed piece of paper,
that withholds a single poem scribbled in the accents of my image.
I know I’ve coughed disease on the sick-less
and injected a coma of diverse thoughts into a society of the restricted man.
these roses have bloomed in the mechanical order they were planted.
And soon, I will join the gods of damnation
and we can eat eternity together, forever,
morsel after enduring morsel.
Until Sunday, when God wants me dead no more.
This is a reprint of work originally published in The Screech Owl.
Levi J. Mericle is a 27-year-old poet and spoken word artist from Tucumcari, NM. He’s been published in multiple anthologies and lit magazines and journals. His goal now is to write and give readings with material that will help the mentally ill come to peace and terms with their mental illnesses.