By Adrianna 'Drienne' Buczek

I dig in the petrichor-smelling ground
until my hands were bruised
and fingernails bled
I crawled into dark corridors
of this underground existence
to find your body
to see that you're dead
I found your rotting meat
the smell sharpened my senses
I wanted to rip your tissues
in an act of hatred
why did you leave me
where are you?
And then, just now
the cold truth under my fingers
begins to sober me up
your presence in front of me
just as you are
there is no fucking soul
nowhere else around
we're just meat
some cells, enzymes, compounds
your whole selfhood
proteome, genome, splendid phenotype
physically sufficient
rotting in the ground
I felt like I was at your second
funeral