We pay for dog bones, with human bones.

I awake in blackness.

I can't tell if it is

warm or cold.

Am I facing up,

or down?

Am I laying,

or sitting,

or standing?

Am I?

Am I?

Am I?

I suffer

then die

then I am born as a

plant

then I am eaten

and my

soul

becomes a

dog's bark or

a hot breath or

the energy it takes to lift a remote...

I become insignificant

yet with more purpose

then I have now.

If it isn't too late to choose,

I'de like to come back as

a mountain.