I watched my own funeral take place, yet
no one recognized who I was or what I’ve
Reflecting on this shell I once called
“home” …I don’t identify with it.
My new perspective is because of my past.
The weight of this chain is burdensome but
I hold the key in my palm,
Should I unlink myself from my corpse?
No, I should not.
Would I be who I was yesterday? Who I
will be tomorrow, or what I am yet to become?
For this corpse I am chained to, I once was.
-- Elena S., 9th-12th Grade