11/7/2020

I want a coffin, I say.
Not a casket, I stress.
The room quiets.
I’m not convinced I’ll want to stay, I explain.
You rarely hear about anyone
escaping a casket, I murmur.
My mother asks me to stop.
I’m upsetting my grandparents.
I just prefer the option, I whisper.
Just eat your dinner, my mom demands.
I roll my eyes,
making future plans.