The Funeral

Jude Afolake Olubodun

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4 min read

Text only reads: There is no need to feel sorry for me, No need to mourn me, Because when I speak of "I," It is not the "I" of who I am, But who I was, And who I was Had to die to become who I am. And who I am is finally free Of the expectations and culmination Of an identity rooted in everyone else's expectations of me, Projections due to forced truancy, Robbed of countless opportunities To see how to love me And everything that I could ever want to be. There is no need for a service because I've already set that person ablaze, A funeral pyre with cleansing flames, New life beneath the ashes, For new love takes root, My reflection finally clear In the nourishing stream of my truth. There is no need to cry for me, Because the tears that I have shed are so much more, So that I don't sit in regret or resentment, My own grief flowing through that stream, To make room for joy, To give birth to what my new life has in store.

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