A good read

Bo Burnham
A great read for people who love unsettling and unique poetry
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Til Death Do Us Part

A raven sits on my headstone as I lie in my coffin, six feet above me the world has gone rotten.

It’s dark, musty, and completely gross down here, there’s sort of a sour, bitter smell, almost like beer.

Maggots eat through my decaying flesh, and bettles eat through my dead tissue. It’s okay down here, I’ve made it my home; being alive was more of the issue.

I do not miss my friends nor my family, but I do miss you my love! I remember when our love was as innocent and pure as a winter white dove.

At the altar you swore “Til death do us part.” Now I am dead, and you’re not mine; and it really breaks my heart.